Past, Present, and Future: One Shots
by UnknownUnseenUnheard
Summary: One shots for my Past, Present, and Future fic. Scenes are on an on-demand basis, so, if you don;t ask, it won't be posted.
1. Chapter 1

A/N; well, on the suggestion of a fellow author(I honestly can't remember who it was, I'm currently looking through all my PM's to try and find who it was), I decided to start this story.

It will be a series of one shots explaining things from my other fic, Past, Present, and Future; Reading the Books.

The one shots will come on a demand basis, so I won't post one unless you specifically ask for it.

Another note to understand is that I will eventually, in my Next Gen fic, get to whatever scenes I happen to post in here. Another thing, I might not put everything up you guys ask for as some of them would ruin plot twists in the Next Gen story.

So.. Yeah, that's it.

Again, these are on an on-demand basis, so, if you don't ask, it won't be posted.


	2. Founding, Part 1 of 3

A/N; Since this did take place, historically, in Scotland 1000 years ago, some heavy research went into this chapter. I had to look dozens of things up in order to find the information necessarily for this. Again, if you find some historical mistake, please alert me of it.

In 997, Constantine the III, ruling King of Scotland, was slain during battle were the River Almond meets other Scotland rivers(I forgot their names, to be honest.) To incorporate that into this, I made Godric his slayer, who then negotiated with the new King, Kenneth the III, over the construction of Hogwarts.

During November 13th of 1002, St. Brice Day, English Kind Æthelred the Unready ordered what would be known as theSt. Brice's Day Massacre, ordering the execution of every man of Danish descent in the country. In this, he also used it as an excuse to hunt down dozens of wizards hiding in England. In real life, this was not the case(as Wizards aren't technically real).

Kenneth the III himself was assassinated at the hands of Malcolm the II eight years later during the Battle of Monzievaird, on March 5th of 1005. In this story, while Kenneth gave the wizards free passage throught the land, Malcolm re-began their prosecution.

Also, during a time period between the years of 711 and 1492, the Iberian Peninsula(modern Spain and Portugal) was locked in war between Islamic Conquers known as the Umayyad(who took it during the early 8th century) and between Spanish Crusaders, who contiguously fought back for dominion over the territory. Now, while they didn't fight each other through that entire time period, I've stated that Salazar fled from there at a young age because of these conflicts. More specifically, he fled from Portugal(its never specifically said). I chose that place for his origin as it is also the origin of his name sake, the Portuguese Dictator António de Oliveira Salazar.

I chose Albania for Rowena's birthplace for the simple reason that her daughter fled there. If she fled there, there had to have been some special ties to that place, right? During that time period, you could say Albania was in a chaotic state. It was shifting, between being under the control of the Bulgarian Empire and that of the crumbling Byzantine Empire.

Also, I know the word 'genocide' was not officially invented until this century by Raphael Lemkin following the Holocaust(during 1945, the year the war actually ended, to be more specific), but, as this is fiction, the term in in here anyways.

Also, I stated that the Vikings were practitioners of dark magic. This is completely made up, since Durmstrang itself is in Scandinavia(It's located in either Norther Sweden or Northern Norway), were the Vikings originally hail from.

Also, there is an O.C., and some of this is told partially from his point of view. The Byzantine Duke he refers to killing is Damian Dalassenos, who was Duke of Antioch and who died in 998 during the Siege of Apamea.

* * *

><p><strong>Prelude<strong>

A wand was held to a throat.

A gasp escaped the lips of the other.

"You've betrayed us.. Betrayed us all." Godric practically snarled.

To this, the other gave a maniacal, insane laugh. After all, he was going to die anyways, nothing he did now could change that fact.

"You've lost, old man.. They are coming.. We will slaughter your women, we will slay your children and leave their bloody corpses at your feet! They are coming!"

Godric felt, for the first time in his life, actual hatred.

Rowena had told them about his kind, the ilk that had massacred the Wizards in Eastern Europe, but it was different now, to have one before him. It was different, looking the monster in the eye, at a man who would strike him down without a second thought. This was the worst kind of the monster, the one who thought what he was doing was correct.

"Give me a reason.." Godric snarled at him, digging the wand deep into the others neck.

He laughed.

"Are you going to kill me, wizard? Are you going to strip the life from my bones, suck the breath of life from my body?"

"I would very well like to.."

"Go on, then. Its not like your kind have hearts, or are even capable of human emotions."

Godric stared at him, more rage, more hate filling him. He lifted the wand, intent on not killing him, but stunning him.

Then the entire castle shook in a great tremor, Godric momentarily lost his balance, and, in those few crucial seconds, he was shoved to the ground. The traitor turned, intent on fleeing.

Godric stood to chase him, but another tremor ripped at the earth, and, for a moment, he turned to look out of the tower, past the battlements here on the tallest of torrents, the Astronomy Tower.

What he saw made his breath hitch.

The wards had fallen..

The wards had failed them..

Years of hiding, and this was the conclusion; mass invasion by an army of Barbarian and Byzantine alike.

The wards had fallen, and Hogwarts was under attack...

* * *

><p>"Father, father! Wake up, damn it, wake!"<p>

"What.. Lemme sleep..."

"Father! The castle is under attack!"

"What!" Salazar Slytherin shot bolt upright, all drowsiness wiped from his eyes. "Under.."

"The ward have fallen, father.. They are coming.."

"What? But that.. No, not po-"

Then the castle shook with a new tremor. It was not a tremor of the earth but of the sky. It was the tremor of the defenses of the castle, breaking around them. The signal of the immanent attack.

"Let us go.." Salazar said as he rose.

The son nodded, helping his father to his feet.

"Abel.. Listen to me.. I want you to-" Salazar began.

"I'm not leaving you. I'll fight, alongside you. I won't hide, father, and you can't make me!" Abel snapped.

"Abel.. Please, listen-"

"No, you listen! This is as much my home as yours! It wouldn't.. Wouldn't feel right to hide and do nothing. I'm of age, aren't I?'

"You've yet to see fifteen summers pass!"

"Your point?"

"As stubborn as your mother.." Salazar grumbled, even as he drew his wand and held it at length and fashioned his armor.

"Come."

Eager, Abel stood and followed his father out the door.

He'd never make it back.

* * *

><p>The arrows rained down from the heaves.<p>

The assassins came in hordes.

Spells were cast, but there were too many.. Far too many.. But they were wizards, and their enemy, they were mortal men, and far easier to kill.

Men fought the battle. Woman rushed about, tending to the wounded.

Two held the courtyard against onslaught.

"Behind you!" Abel shouted.

Salazar turned, just in time to parry a strike. Then, waving his wand like a whip, he sent his assailant back.

They were everywhere.

The numbers seemed endless.

It was a brutal dance. Event he two trained wizards has difficulty, despite the fact that the enemy refused to go anywhere near them. A circle of the fallen surrounded them, and they stood there panting, waiting.

They just had to hold them off, just a bit longer.. Just a bit..

"CHARGE!" a voice thundered from the distance. Rowena was making her move.

The enemy did not see it coming, how could they? Out of nowhere, out of the shadows, out of thin air, they appeared. Curses were flung, bodies were flung, sparks it aflame.

Then Salazar felt himself being pushed out o the way suddenly, and he stumbled, not having expected it. His senses kept him from collapsing to the stone floor, but what he saw next made ice grow in his blood as he turned.

His son was clutching at his own neck. His hands were stained crimson. One long, thin arrow stuck through, between the head and the body, even as he collapsed to the ground.

He'd taken the arrow, taken the arrow meant for Salazar..

The arrow meant to slay the great sorcerer had struck the son..

"NO!" Salazar finally managed to shout when conscious thought entered his brain once more, but it was too late. He collapsed on his knees, lifted the head of his one and only son into his lap, staring into his dying eyes.

"Fa.. Fath.."

"No, please.. Please!" Salazar pleaded, tears running tracks down his cheeks.

A hand lifted up to touch his cheek. A broken smile crossed the face of the dying. Then the hand fell, fell to the cold stone floor. He head fell back, and grey eyes cold as steel lay there staring on forever at what no longer was.

A man howled.

It was the call of the broken.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 1;<strong>

**Founding**

**September 9th, 998 A.D.**

* * *

><p>Four stood in a circle, their hands held tightly in that of the one next to them<p>

The lion, the snake, the badger and the eagle.

Ancient runes were etched in the stone around them as they each inclined their heads, muttering enchantments.

Around them, the valley was void. There was nothing, nothing but a lone forest, a great lake which glistened in the sunlight, and a towering hill. Perhaps not a hill, but, as it was not tall enough to be classified a mountain, a hill they called it.

There was a small camp, were children ran about, playing. Mothers hung clothes on lines, fathers polished spears. A new comer walked among them, and though he treated lightly and appeared to blend in with the rest, many were those who noticed him, shooting him looks.

One little girl tripped and fell.

"Are you okay, sweety?" the man helped her to her feet, then gasped in horror when he saw her face.

"I'm fine, mister!" her deformed face, marred by burns, smiled at him, before the little girl turned to go off and play with her friends. The man merely sat frozen, knelt in the exact same spot, staring after the little girl, he deformed little girl..

"We were attacked on our way here.." a voice spoke. The man stood and turned sharply to gaze at the source, an elderly woman, ancient, her face creased a thousand times over. She was gazing at the little girl, before looking back at the man. "They tried to.. To..." she began to choke slightly as a tear fell from her old eyes. "Burn her, at the stake.. But we witches don't burn easy, eh?" she gave a toothless, humorless and forced laughed.

To this, the man could only nod.

After all, he'd never been a person of many words. The spoken word was so much harder to attain than the endless train of thought.

He turned to gaze at the four, still locked in their circle, still locked in their chant. Faces of legend swelled before him. Four of the most powerful magic bearers in the world, history, really, were standing before him.

"What are they doing?" he asked the old woman.

"Defensive enchantments.. This valley was void of life before they came here, together.." the ancient then turned to look at him. "They're setting up wards, in case of an attack.."

"But.. Surely this is the safest place for wizards in all of Europe? Isn't it here that-"

"Yes, but precautions must be taken.. Mount Olympus in Greece was once one of the greatest gathering center for out kind, yet they were exterminated, were the not?" the elder countered, wisdom in her aged voice. More than wisdom, pain and knowledge..

"You were.."

"There? Yes.. But.. Some things are best left forgotten.." the old woman said, before limping away on her staff, an ancient wooden thing with splinters falling here and there.

The man turned back to the four locked in the center, around their runic circle. He'd heard of them, each and everyone of them. He could not tell whom was whom, but he knew the names;

Godric Gryffindor, born in the wild terrains of Northern England, and a warrior since birth. It was said that it was he who found the other three, he who brought them here, this last great sanctuary.

Salazar Slytherin, said to have fled from the massacres in the Iberian Peninsula in the wars between the Muslim Moors and the Spanish Catholics.

Rowena Ravenclaw, the fair and the wise, hailing from the war torn edges of Eastern Europe, ravaged by the conflicts between two mighty empires.

And, last of all, Helga Hufflepuff, from the territory known as Wales. A healer and an inspirationalist, she had been a symbol of hope to refuges of war torn lands.

Suddenly, the runes around them shined with an unnatural pale blue, before it spread, like the blood in the veins, linking across the ground, across the valley itself along cracks. Gasps were heard, children jumped to their feet, and the skies above shined as a great dome of energy surrounded them.

The barriers had been lifted, and, just like those on Mount Olympus, they had incaged the valley in their defenses.

The chants grew louder, the heads of the four swung up as the spells encased them, their eyes rolled into the back of their skulls. The power pooled in the center point between the dour, before shooting out in a thin, blinding light, striking up at the sky. The clouds shifted under it, surrounding it like the eye of a hurricane.

Electrical sparks could be seen in the skies above. The dome grew hotter, its strength grew wider, till at last it was done. Four founders collapsed in a heap, panting, their magical energy spent.

Nothing would get through those kinds of wards, nothing would be able to penetrate them. A safe heaven in all the turmoil..

Then one of the four, a women with hair dark as the glistening lake and the eyes.. Dark as midnight, not a speck of color within them.

"Another comes?" she spoke as she rose.

The other three shot her questioning looks, but, following her gaze, they locked eyes on the new comer.

"And were might you hail from?" a man of long limbs, a monkeyish face and a thin beard to boast, asked as he rose. Hie eyes were a pale grey, and no warmth radiated from them. They were cold, and told of pain.

The man fell to his knees, his eyes set on the ground, even as the four stood in a semi-circle before him. He bowed, in respect, feeling their power.

Then, a gentle hand met with his shoulder, and the man, boy, really, looked up at her. "You don't have to bow, not to us. Rise, and tell us your name." the woman said. Her blue eyes, unlike the grey eyes of the other man, were lit and brimming with warmth and emotion. It was easy to tell who this one was, this one had to be Helga Hufflepuff, the woman with a heart made of melting gold.

The man nodded, rose, and looked at them all.

"My name is Callistus.. I fled Constantinople when I heard there was a place were our kind walk in freedom." Callistus told them.

"So far has word spread.. Yet we have yet a full year settled in this valley." the other man, the one with auburn hair and a thick beard, spoke. Hie green eyes sparkled with wonder.

"I-"

Suddenly, the man with silver eyes had him by the throat, and before Callistus could even begin to comprehend what was happening, his mind was assaulted. Images swarmed across his visage, memories came flooding back, the echos of the past sounded fiercely within him.

"Salazar!" a voice shouted.

Callistus fell to the floor, panting, gripping at his neck. But it was not his neck that hurt, no, it was his mind. His head burned with ache.

"What were you thinking!" a voice shouted.

"Can the three of you not smell a lie when presented before you?" Slytherin snapped at them, before glaring at Callistus' fallen form. "Disgusting... A disgrace to our kind."

"Leave him be!" the woman, the one Callistus had assumed was called Helga, snapped at him.

"Snivelling traitorous swine." Slytherin spat.

Callistus flinched.

"What?"

Many were now the ones n looking at the scene.

"Please.. They tortured me.. Please..." Callistus pleaded, looking up, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Salazar.. What has he done?" the other male, who could only be Gryffindor, asked, his eyes never wandering off Callistus.

"The witch slayers had captured him.. And he led them, directly into a coven, as to save himself." Slytherin said with distaste.

Many stared in horror at Callistus.

"I.. I was twelve! I didn't.. I didn't know-"

"You knew full well!" Slytherin roared.

"Salazar, he was a child!" Ravenclaw reprimanded him.

"And? At the age of ten, I did not do the same, now did I? No, I fought back!" Slytherin shot back.

"Not many have your bravery.. Or your cunning, dear friend." Gryffindor spoke. "Not many are those who could have single-handedly lead a band of assassins into a trap of your choosing."

Many stared at Slytherin for this.

"I'd already lost my father, and my two aunts. I wasn't about to let them take any more from me." he said simply.

"Come, child.." the elder, the same old woman with the ancient skin, creased a thousand times over, made her way forth. She helped Callistus to his feet. "With me.." she said simply, leading him away.

* * *

><p><strong>December 21st, 1002 A.D.<strong>

* * *

><p>Stone by stone, brick by brick, out of nothing rose the great castle, dominating the landscape. The cold air of December stung, and, tonight on the years longest night, the winds struck their hardest.<p>

The small fortress erected upon the hilltop guarded against the winds, but not much else. House elves patrolled up and down, feeding soup to the injured.

There are tales that say Hogwarts was founded as a school, as a center of learning. That it was education that united the four founders as one, education and education alone that wrought forth its great walls and spanning pathways.

This was a myth.

It was necessity that had built the place then, and necessity that kept it standing now.

Refuges came in, day in and day out. From all over Europe came the wounded the broken. The Christian Crusades had yet to launch, but they were brewing. The battle was coming, coming closer. They all knew it, they could see the signs already brewing, even if the climax itself had yet to come, even though the pinnacle of the battle had yet to form.

After all, one only needed to look to war-torn Iberia. Three centuries had passed since its fall, but even now, its plains were victim to constant strife.

Callistan sat with his legs crossed and his eyes closed as he leaned back against the cold brick. The elder women, Verna, sat a little away from him. He and she had come to be close over the years. She was, by far, the oldest witch here, having been born more than a centuries past.

She had taken him in, since that first day. Many had been wary of him after Slytherin's out burst, but had come to trust him over time.

Even if he wasn't of Wizarding descent.

"So.. You killed him.." Verna repeated yet again.

"They were laying siege to Apamea.. I guess he recognized me, even after all those years.. Lucky me, they never tied me to the crime, or I'd have a hefty fine on my head for slaying a Byzantine Official." Callistan replied bitterly.

"Of course.. Assassination of a Duke is not a forgivable crime.." Verna said.

"The bastard deserved what he got.." Callistan hissed with venom.

"Careful, now.. Hate is a piousness blade that has taken ma-"

Callistan glared at her. "And what do you know of pain, of guilt and shame?" he snapped at her, before standing and leaving the old woman he had come to see as a mother figure behind.

He wasn't the only one who had come to see Verna in that role, actually.

Many were those she had taken under her wing, many were those she had looked after. She had a kind heart, that woman.

It was a cold winter, as ice fell down on Europe.

A mere month prior, English King Æthelred had ordered the slaughter of all men, women, and children of Danish descent within his domain. Of course, the official record was that only the men were massacred, but were had the survivors fled?

To Hogwarts..

It seemed the slaughter had been used to mask another slaughter, one under the curtain of what was known and unknown. Dozens of Wizarding refuges making their way to the safe heaven of the Valley of Hogwarts met their ends at the hands of cut-throat assassins, under direct orders from the young King.

Of course, Scotland itself, were Hogwarts was nested, was safe. Gryffindor and King Kenneth the III were old allies, Gryffindor having helped the other in gaining his throne. How? Five years ago, it was by Gryffindor's blade that the former king, Constantine the III, was felled in battle at the river Almond.

Many things had changed, in those five years..

Out of nothing, they had constructed so much.

Four years ago, when Callistan had arrived, the wards had met their completion, encasing the Valley of Hogwarts in a defensive web which only men of magical blood could traverse.

Three years prior, the construction of the castle had begun, and the four founders had begun to train the young in the magical arts.

Two years prior, half a dozen centaurs had made negotiations with the four founders over the forest territory, before they settled among its midst.

And, one year prior, the town of Hogsmeade had been founded by one of Hufflepuffs apprentices, Hengist of Woodcroft. Hogsmeade, though it lacked the defenses of the Valley of Hogwarts itself, had also begun to flourish.

A magical community amongst the turmoil.

And, it was not for the first time that cold winter's day that an argument had broken out between the four founders.

"I do not trust these Muggles, these Muggle-borns as you call them.. Their kind have laid waste to our own, why should we grant them refuge?" for perhaps the hundredth time, Salazar Slytherin made his argument.

"And what would you suggest? That we leave them to burn, Salazar?" Helga said hotly.

"Look at me.. In Iberia, my wife and I, we took their kind in. And do you know what happened, Helga? Do you wish to know what happened to us because of our sympathy?" Salazar began.

"Just becau-"

"They took her. They took my dear Ruth, and they killed her! They left her body, battered and broken without any manner of mercy! And, when I arrived on the scene.. My son. They were cornering the boy, Helga! Had I been delayed a minute longer, Abel would not breath!" Salazar hissed at her.

Helga Hufflepuff sighed, defeated.

Godric, however, ever tactless, refused to do as such..

"You cannot judge them all by the actions of two-"

"They killed my Ruth!"

"And, by the Ancients, I've killed men and women alike too!" Godric snapped at him. "I have seen war! Since I was raised, I have seen battle. I have rushed into fields of fallen, were blades clash and the blood of innocents is spilled. But if there is one thing time has thought me, it is this; though men may look the same, and share similar backgrounds, it is their choices that forge them, and by the Ancients, if there is one thing I will do right in my life, it is this! I refuse to merely shut out gates to them!"

Salazar glarrd venom.

A small, seven year old boy standing at the door have a sigh, making the four turn.

"Abel.. Go back to sleep, you are sick." Salazar said.

"I heard shouting.." the little boy replied, looking at them all. "I don't like it when you all fight..."

The four founders exchanged looks, but it was Rowena, not Salazar, who approached the child.

She knelt before him, looking him in the eyes. "Why don't you go find Helena? She is lonely, and misses you. Go on, find her." Rowena told the boy.

"Promise no more shouting first." the boy replied. Such innocence, even from a child who had witnessed his own mother murdered at the age of two- not that he remembered, he had blocked out the traumatizing event.

The four couldn't help but smile at that.

"Very well.. Go, she's waiting." Rowena said.

"Alright.." Abel smiled slightly, then turned and left. Rowena sighed, closed the door, and cast a silencing charm on it to keep anyone else from hearing their discussion.

As she turned, the old argument had already started anew.

* * *

><p><strong>March 30th, 1005<strong>

* * *

><p>"Four nights ago, Kenneth the III was assassinated at the hands of Máel Coluim mac Cináeda, more commonly know by the people as Malcolm the II at the Battle of Monzievaird." Godric told them all solemnly.<p>

In the three years that had passed, Hogwarts had grown exponentially. What had once been mere stones could now pass truly as a castle, instead of the old appearance it had held, were it looked nothing more than aged and battered ruins.

"And what does that mean for us?" a voice called, and all eyes turned to the young prodigy, Merlin. While all four founders had taken interest in him, it was under Salazar's wing that the boy had fallen. Young and powerful, some believed it would be Merlin that would lead Wizardkind back to greatness. Of course, that was before Merlin informed them that he had no intention of dominating everything, which many had seen as a waste.

"It means.. That our relations with the King have been cut." Salazar said as he rose. He shot a look at Godric, and the other nodded at him. Salazar then turned to the mass surrounding them. "Immediately after the battle, I went to negotiate a cease fire with Malcolm. Once he discovered what I was, he quickly ordered my execution..." and with this, the powerful sorcerer let the cloth over his chest fall, and many were those who gasped.

It was a wonder he could even stand..

Lines were cut deep, etched into his skin. The grazes were deep, cutting in like a blade into his skin.

"They captured me quickly, and, before I had chance to defend myself, had me wrapped in chains.. They attempted to torture the location of this valley out of me.." the last he said with distaste, hatred, and just a hint of pride. Pride in himself, in that he had resisted them, despite the red that spanned his skin..

"How did you escape?" a voice asked in awe.

"I rescued him.. And a hell of a fight it was.." Godric spoke.

"I thank you, old friend." Salazar nodded to him.

"We are brothers, you and I." Godric smiled at him, but the smile was marred by the grimace that his marks his features since news of the King's assassination had met his ears.

"Under Kenneth, we did not have to hide. He gave us free rein to pass thought the land without oppression, so long as we kept our presences concealed. However, under Malcolm.." Rowena began.

"He is likely to attempt genocide against us." Merlin spoke. Rowena nodded gravely.

Many felt fear at the words.

Complete eradication.

The very thing they had been fleeing from for years.

"The fortifications of the castle have been set. They will not be able to penetrate it, or, for that matter, even see it. Still, more may come in time due to the increased slaughters." Helga told them all.

"Why not fortify Ireland?" a voice called.

"And face the wrath of the Vikings?" Merlin called back before any of the founders could comment. "They are the vilest of our kind, the practice the darkest of sorcery. While here, we are persecuted by the humans, there we will find conflict with brothers of equal caliber that would slay us and use our blood in ancient dark rites."

None spoke, no one wanted to. And even if they did, what were they to say?

The four founders rose.

"We fortify the castle. At dawn, I want every able-bodied man to accompany me. We will stalk across Scotland, and gather those of our kind seeking refuge before this new King can slaughter them all." Godric spoke.

There were nods and a few nervous looks at his words, but in the end, everything was agreed upon.

That lone decision would end in catastrophe.

* * *

><p>AN; you may have noticed I combined the prelude with the chapter after it. I actually intended to do that from the beginning, but, wanting to make it all quicker, I didn't since I thought I could shove the next two parts into one. My apologizes. If you're reading this, then the next part is already up, and the third will soon follow.


	3. Byzantine, Part 2 of 3

A/N; This one was harder to write, for the very simple reason that Wikipedia decided it would hate me each time I tried to do research for this. Actually, the entire Internet kept deciding it would hate me and my laptop kept crashing on itself..

Basil the II of the Byzantine Empire, also known As Basil the Bulgar-Slayer, was perhaps one of the most inferential Byzantine Emperor's of all time. He not only beat back the Arab invasions in the East, but expanded by the Empire by finally concluding th conquest of Bulgaria, which the Byzantines had been fighting for several years. He reined from 976 to 1025, or a total of 49 years, which, back then, was a really long time.

Also, Pelahnar pointed out Merlin couldn't possibly be in this time frame. You are welcome to blame J.K. Rowling, as she stated he is a Slytherin. However, I have twisted a reason for him still being alive into the whole thing, so its still the same Merlin from legend, with a little more added to the end. Mind you, I was not able to find a good source on Arthurian Legend(that, and I was too lazy to search for more than ten minutes), so if something is off, I apologize.

I mean no offence to Christians! I myself am proudly one, but so were the Byzantines, and quiet simply, mad people have a habit of using their religion as an excuse for the horrors they commit(Hitler, anyone?). So, again, no offence is made. It's only on sentence(where the bad guy declares they're killing the wizards in the 'name of Jesus'), but as some people are touchy about that, I'm leaving this note here.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 2<strong>

**Byzantine**

**April 22, 1005**

The air was tense, thick.

Three of four paced inside a room, worry creased on their faces.

It had been three weeks since Godric Gryffindor and two dozen other men had set of to search for any wayward witch or wizard before they could fall victim to Malcolm's assassins.

And they had yet to return.

"I should set out for them." Salazar repeated for the hundredth time.

Of course, the other two would not hear a word of it. They rounded on him, fire sparkling in both their eyes as they glared at him.

"If all of them are lost, must we loose you as well?" Rowena demanded.

"And what if the defenses of the castle are breached? They will pour down upon us in the hundreds, and even one lost wand to us could be deadly!" Helga snapped.

"Never mind the fact that without you, we loose not only about a fifth of our raw power, but we also loose the only other person in this camp, beside myself, who is a master stratagist!" Rowena continued.

"All right, all right!" Salazar lifted his hands in mock surrender as the two women glared at him.

He knew why they were so tense these days, why they snapped at everything, boiled over at the tiniest things. They were worried. And worse, they couldn't do anything about it. And it was driving them insane.

Salazar turned, and glanced out through the window, staring out into the night sky, into the full moon.

"Old friend, where are you?" he muttered to himself.

* * *

><p>"Remind me again why we find ourselves within the Byzantine Empire itself?" Merlin spoke.<p>

"This is the center of the slaughter. Our goal is simple; we find where they have rounded up our fellow wizards, lay siege to the outpost, and escape." Godric declared smoothly, as if doing such a thing was the easiest in the world.

They walked the streets of Constantinople themselves. Suicide for a wizard, but then again, both were exceptionally powerful. Of course, the danger was made all the more predominate by the fact that the entire empire was geared for war. Basil the II had declared open warfare on the Bulgarians, war plaguing Eastern Europe because of it.

If that wasn't bad enough, Basil had succeeded in drawing the Russians into the battle, on his side. But, then again, the Byzantines and Kievan Rus' had a long standing relationships of ups and downs in which each constantly back stabbed the other before begging for forgiveness.

In other words, the typical kind of political relationship.

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" Merlin asked.

"Callistus stated Damian Dalassenos of Antioch was in command of the Byzantine anti-Wizarding operations while he himself lived within the Empire. It was Dalassenos himself who tricked Callistus into giving over the location of the hiding wizards. As you recall, years later, Callistus killed him in the Byzantine Siege of Apamea."

At this point, people had turned to stare. After all, Godric spoke in Gaelic, the language of the Scots, instead of switching over to the Byzantine Greek or Latin as one would expect him to. Then again, subtlety had never been Godric Gryffindor's strong point.

"And this helps us how?" Merlin again asked.

Godric turned to him. "We capture Damian's successor, Nikephoros Ouranos."

Eyes turned. They could not recognize the language, but the name of one of the Emperor's most trusted advisers?

Merlin stared at him.

"You're mad." he stated quiet bluntly.

To this, Godric shrugged. "So I've been told. Come, the others are waiting for us.." Godric stated as he turned and continued to march forward. Exasperated, Merlin followed.

* * *

><p>Callistus walked back and forth, worry creased on his face.<p>

"This was your idea." Kieran reminded him.

"I know.. But still.." Callistus spoke as he turned to face the other young wizard. "If they get caught, captured.. All my fault."

Kieran sighed and shook his head at him, but didn't comment.

Just then, the door to their little hide out, which had been enchanted to only open to a wand tap, opened, Godric and Merlin walking back in.

Callistus, of course, strode forth to them.

"What did you find? Do you know where he is?"

Everyone, of course, stared at him, having no idea what Callistus was talking about.

"Ouranos is set to depart during the morrow to Syria, with blessings from the Emperor to crush the Arab uprising under Al-Asfar. If we move quickly, we may manage to capture him before-" Godric began.

This, of course, had nearly everyone in the room confused.

"And then what?" Merlin spoke cynically, eyeing them all as he began pacing the room, before finally turning to face Gryffindor. "He is the Duke of Antioch. Do you truly believe he will be defenseless? Even if we manage to capture the bastard, what then?"

"This." Godric slipped a small vile from his robes. That, however, was not the strangest part of the thing.

"It's water." Horan said deadpanned, staring at the vile in Godric's hand, but the latter shook his head.

"No." they stared at him. "This is not water. This is an experimental potion Salazar has been developing, based on the old potions works of Egypt. He calls it, 'veritaserum'." Godric said.

"And what does it do?" Merlin asked curiously.

"It forces the victim to tell the truth. We slip three drops down Ouranos' throat, and he will have no choice but to confess where they have been gathering the wizards." Godric said.

Looks were exchanged, and within the next hour, the battle plans had been drawn. This would be a mission of stealth. To be seen would prove fatal.

* * *

><p>"I trust you find yourself well, my old friend?" the Emperor spoke.<p>

His words sounded false, as, ever the politician, Emperor Basil the II had no true feel for the term 'friends'.

"Yes, mi'lord. Under your command, I have gained for us the region of Tao. Syria is under out dominion, but.." Ouranos trailed off.

"But?" Basil said dangerously.

"Al-Asfar. He stirs trouble..."

"Ah. Another rebel. Is there something that troubles you of this one?"

"He is craftier than the others. While they were disorganized, he has integrated a full scale rebellion." Ouranos spoke, fear slipping in just behind his owl political farce.

"I see.." Basil said, turning away and leaning his hands on the balcony.

"Mi'lord-" Ouranos began.

"Nikephoros, old friend, I have protected you all these years, but know this." the Emperor rounded on him. "Should you fail me in this, no aid will come. I shall abandon you, and let you burn. The Bulgarians strike. We cannot afford to divide our forces now. Defeat this Al-Asfar, how, I do not care, only assure it is done. Now, I have duties to attend to. Go." Basil commanded.

Hastily, Ouranos bowed and then made his way out.

"It was a good thing I didn't tell him about the wizards rebelling in the Aegean.." Ouranos muttered to himself.

"That's alright, you are welcome to tell us." a voice said. He turned as a spell struck him, and the Duke was whisked away.

* * *

><p>When his eyes shot open, he found himself sitting in a chair. He felt cool air on his cheeks, and he realized the window opened, if only just a bit, letting the evening sun shine through.<p>

When he tried to rise, he noticed the ropes binding him to the damn thing, keeping him in place. When he tried to scream, he noticed the clothe bound around his head and shoved rudely into his mouth. His eyes widened with fear.

Had the Emperor ordered his execution, for daring to even suggest he needed aid?

"Hello." that same, casual voice spoke.

It spoke in Latin, and it was accented. Heavily accented. The window close, and a pair of hands undid the clothe that kept noise from escaping his mouth.

Ouranos gasped, before he began coughing.

"Nikky, its been too long." someone knelt before him, a smile plastered on his face. Ouranos shivered, not liking that smile at all.

"Callistus!" Ouranos realized, terror filling him. The slayer of his predecessor stood before him, and he was at his mercy..

"It seems only yesterday you held a knife to my throat." Callistus snarled at him. He lifted his wand threateningly. Ouranos jumped, eyeing the thing in horror. He wanted to scream, but the fear, it had paralyzed him, left him frozen stiff, left him-

"Enough. We will not stoop to his level." a new voice spoke.

Callistus continued to glare death at Ouranos, but nodded, stood, and backed away.

Soon, another male was before him, one with auburn hair and a beard so thick it covered his entire face. Bright green eyes stared at him.

Red hair, green eyes.. Two of the usual identification signs of a witch or warlock, usually the former.

Suddenly, his head was swung back, something was poured into his mouth, hands forcing his head to stay in that position as fingers closed around his nose, stripping him of his ability to breath. Having no other choice, Ouranos drank the vile substances, and it burned all the way down, like cheep alcohol.

The hands let him go.

He gasped as his head shot up, panting.

"What is the meaning of-" he began hotly.

"Who are you?" the interrogator demanded.

"Nikephoros Ouranos the III, Viceroy of the Eastern Frontier and Duke of Antioch." Ouranos answered immediately, his tongue acting of its own accord.

"You hold a secret rank within the Empire. What is it?" Godric asked.

"I am Head of the MEG, the Magical Execution Guard, set forth to capture and bring forth individuals accused of witchcraft." Ouranos looked forth in horror again as the words left his lips.

"Where are these individuals taken to?" Godric demanded.

"I.. Will no- Abydos, at the Nara Burna! From there, they are shipped to the island of Naxos!" Ouranos cried.

"And the defenses?" Godric demanded.

"There are few. Prisoners are starved before they are transferred, and as the location is known only by the high command, H.R.H. Lord Basil has commanded the withdraw of the defense force stationed there to aid in the conquest of Bulgaria!" Ouranos said with a pronounced pant, his eyes wide. What had they done to him.

"That was all we wanted to know." Godric said coldly.

"So.. I may.. Leave?"

"Yes. _Obliviate!_"

Ouranos gave a gasp, before his eyes glazed over, his head falling back before they closed, his memories leaving him..

"Naxos.. One of the largest islands within the Aegean, near the very core of the sea.." Callistus spoke, finally standing from his sitting position.

"And what of this trash?" Kieran spoke, hitting Ouranos. "If we let it go, it will simply return to terrorising our kind."

"We let him go." Godric said.

"What?" the others gasped.

"We shall not stoop to their level." Godric said simply.

"But-"

"He-"

"It matters not! If we execute him, inquiry will be done, and we cannot afford to be discovered." Merlin interrupted. Godric nodded his thanks at the other man for this as it quelled the doubts.

Again, battle plans were drawn. Callistus gazed out into the distance, hope lighting up in him.

Years ago, he had believed he had been the death of his family.

Could they still live?

* * *

><p><strong>May 1st, 1005<strong>

Merlin paced up in down, lost in thought. The others slept like babes. They slept within a cargo ship set for Naxos, having easily infiltrated the city of Abydos. There had been very little guards at all, just as Ouranos had promised. It seemed Emperor Basil was arrogant indeed.

It didn't feel right.

This body, it didn't feel right.

He didn't feel seventeen, yet here he stood, in a teenagers body.

But he didn't feel it.

Perhaps he shouldn't be up on the deck of the ship, but then again, the crew men were under the impression he and the others were part of their little crew, having no idea that the other members meant to have set out on this voyage had come across some- ah- difficulties along the way.

He leaned against the side of the ship, the moon shining its blue brilliance upon him, the cool waters splashing about as the cool night air struck his face.

Suddenly, he heard steps. Whipping around, wand hidden under his sleeve, he came the sight of Callistus, walking onto the deck.

"Couldn't sleep either?" the other asked casually.

Merlin nodded absentmindedly before turning back to gazing at the moon.

Callistus was soon next to him, gazing up as well. They gazed on in silence for several minutes, Merlin praying the other would simply leave before the other spoke.

"I've never much liked the Moon, to be honest. People gaze at it, put their hopes in it as if were some kind of god. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if, in a few centuries, we discover the entire thing is just one ugly smaller version of the earth." Callistus said as he turned, leaning with his back against the side of the ship, his head turned away from the shining Moon.

"What do you think?"

However, when Merlin turned to face him, he did not answer the question. Instead, he asked one in turn which took the other by surprise.

"Callistus.. Who am I?"

The other spluttered.

"What?"

"Who.. Who am I? I don;t feel this young, I don't feel like I know this bloody time! When Salazar found me, he found my half dead corpse on an alter of stone, yet I don't.. I don't remember a thing, other than my own name, if it is bloody Merlin! Who am I?" Merlin demanded.

"I.. I don't.." Callistus spoke, at a loss for words.

Merlin looked away, his fists clenched.

Damn amnesia..

"Sorry.." he apologized.

"It's alright." Callistus was quick to say.

Merlin turned to look at him. "I suggest we get back to bed. We reach Naxos by morning, and it will be a long day indeed."

To this, Callistus nodded, and the two made their way forward, back to their sleeping quarters.

* * *

><p><strong>May 2nd, 1005<strong>

"The Aegean? Why would they go there?" Helga asked confused.

"I do not know.." Rowena answered as she set down her Diadem, enchanted to let her see beyond the norm, to see where others hid.

With it, she could see it all. A terrible curse, and, quiet simply, she was sure that attempting to reproduce the spell work would kill her, even if she managed to get it right. After all, she wasn't really sure how she had finally made the damn thing.

Salazar, however, had a calculative look in his eyes. "The Aegean lies within the shores of the Byzantine Empire. Callistus has lead them into a trap." he reasoned.

Helga glared at him as Rowena sighed, shaking her head in exasperation.

"In seven years, he has shown no sign of treachery, has he not?" Helga spoke.

"We will see." Salazar said cynically.

The other two felt like smashing their heads against the table.

* * *

><p>Mt. Zas. Centuries before, it was here, on this sacred mountain, where Greek legends spoke Zues was hidden by his mother Rhea. Here, she hid him from the wrath of his father, Kronos. And here, years later, he would rise up, defeat his father, and force him to vomit his own children before the Olympians united to defeat the Titan Lord.<p>

Now, the holy Greek mountain was used as a platform for the execution of accused witches, where they were gathered, and slaughtered like animals.

And now, it was here where a great battle broke out.

"_Confringo_!"

"Get the bloody warlock!" a voice grunted.

Godric led the charge. Whatever enemy they had been expecting, it was not Godric Gryffindor himself, who, on the battle field, was a wraith of death itself.

Several concentrated on him alone.

He killed them all with ease, their blood staining his sword as he dug it in each and every one of his opponents.

The others fought with swords and magic alike.

Around them, diseased and starved prisoners gazed out in shock.

Had hope, salivation from this hell, come at last? Or worse, would they sacrifice them and syphon their powers, as the guards had told them when they had been put here for their own safety?

Spells shot out from all directions, and the Byzantine guards fell, unable to fight back. They were not accustomed to this, accustomed to wizards who actually knew what they were doing.

And, as result, they got their asses handed to them.

At last, only one was left.

"Don't!" Godric commanded as Horan lifted his sword to finish him. The other backed off as the guard fell to his knees, gripping at a cut at his chest.

Godric tilted his head backwards, and let the veritaserum pour into the others mouth.

"What is your name?" Godric interrogated.

"Romanos Dalassenos." the man replied.

"The son of the demon himself!" Callistus snarled, advancing.

"Stay your hand!" Godric commanded, his eyes never wavering of the solider before him

Callistus glared, but did as told.

"What rank do you hold at this camp, solider?" Godric asked.

"High Commander and legionnaire of H.R.H. Lord Basil the II." Romanos answered.

"What is this camp?"

"A concentration camp. Under orders by the Emperor, we are to gather all those who show magic, and let their blood spill as an offering to Jesus, bless his soul, on the last day of the year." Romanos answered.

"What!" the prisoners yelped, having come out of their hiding places.

"Are there anymore camps on this island?" Godric demanded.

"No." Romanos answered.

"Good."

And with this, Godric smacked him across the face, letting the man fall unconscious.

"You let him live." Merlin pointed out.

"I am no murderer." Godric snapped at him, before he turned to the rest. "Come, this place holds naught for you. We offer you shelter, and a place of learning."

"Why should we trust-"

"Because we just save you." Godric interrupted coldly.

Silence. Then-

"Callistus?"

It was the voice of a woman, her eyes grown old as she walked forward, lifting her hand.

"Mother.." Callistus embraced the woman.

It seemed that was all it took to convince the rest of them to follow them.

Godric led them out of that place, right back to Scotland, wizard and Muggle alike. This would prove his undoing.


	4. The Snake in the Grass, Part 3a of 3

A/N; History, history, oh, and some history. Mind you, this is still my favorite school subject. Anyways..

During the year of 1006, Alphege of Canterbury was declared Archbishop of the region after the death of the previous Archbishop, Ælfric of Abingdon.

I also realized I never had an entery for Romanos Dalassenos. I shall do that now. He was one of the sons of Damian Dalassenos, and held the rank of Katepano in the Byzantine Empire. In other words, he was one of their top generals, not just general but the high, high command of the Byzantine Empire. For some odd reason, wiki does not have an article on him specifically, this information(along with links to the source) can be found on wiki under Damian Dalassenos' page, which you can google if you wish.

Callistus, and the members of his family, find their etymology behind the four major moons of Jupiter, Ganymede, Callisto, Io and Europa. This was not intentional at first. Callistus was an actual Byzantine name. The others, I have adopted just to make it easier on myself. Ganymede was Callistus' twin brother, Io is their sister, and Europa is their sister. The four moons are actually named after four loves of Zues in Greek Mythology, Ganymede being the only male out of the four, but that one is besides the point.

Again, I stress this, I mean no offence to Christians. I myself am one! I'm just repeating that because it it, after all, a touchy subject. I'm just gonna state this, religion is not the reason behind the actions of the bad guys in this, its just the excuse they give to the general public, who swallow it. Historically, its happened countless times. Hitler was the number one exploiter of this concept. Then, we have others like Stalin who switched the excuse and called it politics instead, but that's another debate entirely.

Also, there is teen sex in this. No worries, I don't go into details at all whatsoever, just them waking up the morning after, but, if you take offence to that, don't have kids!

Another thing, this is, b far, the longest loan chapter I've ever written. As such, I chopped it in half. I feel bad about that, since I said it would only be three parts, and now three has turned to four. Next time, I won't specify the amount of parts.

Anyways, on with the story.

Oh.. wait. One last thing! I dedicate this chapter(and the next one) to Pelahnar, as she is the only one who reviewed the last chapter :P

Okay, now on with the story!

* * *

><p><strong>Part 3-1<strong>

**The Snake in the Grass**

**May 10th, 1005**

"You did what?" Salazar snarled.

"I couldn't just leave them!" Godric snapped, his arms crossed over his chest, determination lighting his face as he glared intently at the other man.

Grey eyes met with green as both men gazed at the other furiously.

"Would you have left them?" Rowena rounded on Salazar dangerously.

Far from deflating the other, this statement only seemed to fuel Salazar's rage. "These Muggles have slaughtered out kind, hunted our kind to the edge of extinction, yet this.. This fool would bring them here, of all places, the only land where we may know peace?" Salazar made his point, fixing his eyes back on Godric, as if daring him to contradict him.

Godric, ever the tactless one, did just that.

"Just because your family is gone doesn't mean-" he began hotly.

"GODRIC!" the two woman shouted as Salazar flinched.

No one spoke after that, as Godric and Salazar simply stood there, glaring at one another. The air around them was thick, thick i the magic both men gave off in their anger, in their rage, their emotions wild and ravaging at their hearts.

"To think.. I once called you brother." Salazar spat, before turning, his robes billowing behind him slightly as he marched away. A drop of water slipped from his eyes, falling to the stone floor beneath his feet.

"Good riddance." Godric nodded.

The other two starred at him incredulously, before they both turned and departed, leaving Godric to his own musings as they chased after Salazar.

* * *

><p>Little Abel slept, his eyes closed as he rested upon the mat in his room. Of course, if you even dared suggest he was little, he would rise and shout, "No, I'm eleven, I'm a big boy!" but, that was beside the point at the moment.<p>

Suddenly, the door to his chamber burst open. His eyes snapped open as he sat up, turning round as his father marched into the room. Salazar, however, ignored the boy as he opened up a wardrobe, beginning to draw out clothes, tossing them onto the bed.

"Salazar-" Helga's voice trailed into the room as she entered.

"What are you doin', dad?" Abel grumbled as he rose, yawning.

Salazar turned to look at him. "Get you're things. We're leaving." he announced.

"What!" everyone shouted.

"Why?" Abel asked, now fully awake as he sat up. He was openly glaring at his father at this point, though the latter ignored him, still tossing more clothes onto the bed. Finally satisfied, Salazar turned around, and, when he noticed his son had not moved an inch, he glared at the boy.

"Get up. We're leaving." Salazar repeated.

A look of horror crossed the eyes of the boy.

"Over this?" Helga demanded.

Salazar glared at her.

"I cannot stay here any longer, Helga. He," Salazar spat the words with the utmost venom, "Has brought the Muggles here. Here, of all places! This place is no longer safe, this land of ours is no longer-"

"Perhaps you are acting too rashly, maybe you should sit and consider, for just a-" Rowena began.

"No!" Salazar shouted at her. "I cannot. I will not."

"Contradiction. Will not implies a choice, cannot does not." Rowena informed him.

"Do I look like I give a blasted damn? Up, boy!" Salazar hissed dangerously.

"No." Abel said defiantly.

All went silent in the room as all three adults fixed their gazes on the little boy.

"No?" Salazar repeated, a threat veiled just underneath his tone.

At this point, Abel stood. "I won't! I don't want to! I don't want to leave again, I want to stay, and you can't force me, please don't make me go.. Please!"

Tears.

Damn those tears...

Salazar sighed. His resolved broken, he walked up to the little boy, and embraced him. After all, the boy was all he had left, truly had left. Salazar would do anything for him, he would give his life a thousand times over. How could he deny him this, what he wanted?

"Alright. We'll stay. Just don't cry anymore, please?"

The boy nodded into his fathers chest, but tears still streamed down his cheeks. He set the boy down, returned the clothes back to the wardrobe, before he and the other two founders left, leaving a little boy to his own thought process.

The other two founders sighed in relief. When Salazar turned to the other two, he spoke. "Now.. What do we do about Godric."

"We talk to him.. It's all we can do." Helga replied.

Salazar nodded to this. "And the Muggles?"

At this point, they stared at him.

"Well?" he pressed on.

"Salazar.. We can't just cast them out, they have no where to go! They are as much as outcasts as we are!" Helga exclaimed.

Salazar closed his eyes, looking away. "By the ancients.. I hope the two of you aren't wrong about this, I pray that you aren't.." he whispered, almost to himself.

Logically, things were tense between the four after that point.

Salazar continued to argue the Muggles should be cast out.

Godric continued to be an ass.

The other two barely managed to keep things together.

* * *

><p><strong>June 21st, 1006<strong>

"In a centuries time, when each of our hearts has stopped their beat, how will each new pupil be sorted?" Rowena told them all.

"I was under the impression this was a fortress.." Salazar spoke from his corner. "Not a school."

"Yet we act like a school." Godric pointed out to the other.

To this, the other nodded. Over the past year, though the tensions between the two friends had been high, they at least managed to keep from killing each other. Grudgingly, they had started to mend their bond.

The only problem was that both refused to admit they were wrong, at least on some level. And, being stubborn males, they refused to hear anything different. But, on the positive side, at least they weren't stubborn females. They'd still be at step one if that one was true.

"We have trained our students, let them learn.. Those who come here now come more for learning than for shelter." Helga added.

To this, Salazar nodded.

"Each, we take under our wing. But how shall we do this in the future, when we are gone?" Godric said.

"Are you suggesting we keep them all separate?" Salazar raised eyebrow.

"It would be easier to train them that way, if we segregate them by their own personalities, keep them among those who share similar goals an interests." Rowena spoke.

Salazar just nodded slowly to this.

"I don't like it."

The other three stared at him.

"Why?" Helga asked.

"We are separating them into groups, segregating them into.. Houses, lets call it. Would this not increase rival ship between them, keeping them from truly uniting?" Salazar made his point, leaning over the table, his chin resting upon his long and thin spider like fingers.

"Yet you want to segregate us from the Muggles." Godric pointed out quiet angrily.

"We are a dying breed. Only through unity can we strive forth. Anything less would lead to our annihilation." Salazar shot back.

Silence.

"Perhaps you are right-" Helga began.

"This act will not destroy our unity. More over, it will help us grow and strive forth. In learning lies our greatest hope for the future." Rowena interrupted.

In the end, they argued over the issue for a total of three hours, before Salazar, outvoted, finally conceded. Godric swiped the hat from his head, and, together, the four united their magic on the thing. Upon the death of the last founder, the enchantments would come alive, giving the thing the breath of life from the ashes of their magic fading from the world.

The charmer watched on, a vile smile playing on the lips of the betrayer. The first part of the plan had come to fruition.

That day, on the Summer Solstice, the Sorting Hat was born.

That day, on the Summer Solstice, Alphege of Canterbury was declared Archbishop by Pope John the XVIII. Hell was about to break loose.

* * *

><p><strong>January 1st, 1007<strong>

"Mother, please, listen to me-" Callistus pleaded.

"All these years.. All those years we suffered, and here you hid, safe, oblivious to the pains you put us through-" Europa ranted.

"Please.. I didn't, I didn't kn-"

"You knew perfectly well!" Europa rounded on him dangerously.

Io stood in the corner, silently watching the exchange between her brother and her mother, one she'd seen all too many times.

"I didn't! Mother, I was little boy, I didn't-" Callistus attempted, yet again, to reason with the woman.

"Your father was executed before my own eyes." Europa said dangerously, her eyes flashing. Callistus flinched. "They made me watch. They made me watch as tey slit his throat!" she thundered. "They told me.. They told me, from the moment the two of you were born, and I ignored them. I should have-"

"Should have what!" Io stood, joining in the argument. After a year of constant bickering, she was quiet simply tired of it.

"Io, go to your room." Europa commanded coldly.

"No, she has a point. You should have what, Mother?" Callistus demanded.

"I should have slit your bloody little throat! I should have killed you, yo disgusting, filthy abomination, you are a violation of nature!" she finally snapped, before advancing on him. Callistus did not have the heart to defend himself as her fist struck him, over and over.

"Leave him alone!" Io shouted.

"You shouldn't exist, you aren't normal, you evil demonic spawn, I should have killed you!" Europa was not to be reasoned with as she continuously assaulted the boy, over and over.

Callistus fell to his knees, gripping at his skull as she kicked him, over and over.

He wasn't sure what hurt more, the tears or the words...

"I said-" Io screamed as she pulled her mother of Callistus, tossing her away from them, "TO LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Europa glared at her, then at the sight of her son, silently sobbing on the ground.

"They killed your brother, too, you know.. They killed him, just like your father. Both of them, innocent, normal, not like you, you who sold your soul to Satan for these powers-"

"Shut up! JUST SHUT UP!" Callistus bellowed as he rose, blood falling from his face. His eye was already starting to bruise from his mother's punishment, and, as he gripped a little at his chest, Io wondered if he had a fractured rib.

Europa glared at him one last time before she strode to the door. "Io, come." she ordered.

"No." the girl snapped, as she went over to her older brother, and wrapped him in a sweet embrace. He melted in her arms, hugging her back almost desperately.

Europa merely stared at her coldly.

"Very well. Sell your soul, just like he did."

And with this, their oh so loving mother left, slamming the door behind her. She marched, ignoring the looks others sent her as she made her way through Hogsmede, leaving it, and everything else, behind her.

A single figure watched her depart.

Step two was done.

The wonders of the Imperious Curse, and how susceptible and week Muggles were to its power.

Europa walked her forced walk until she was led into a forest, then, the enchantment broken, the mother fell to her knees, tears running down her cheeks

A figure appeared before her.

"YOU!" Europa snarled, attempting to rise. She was knocked back to the ground with ease.

"Your heart is mine." the other hissed calmly.

A wand was raised, a spell was cast, and life's beat was wiped from the eyes of Europa Callestan of Crete as she fell over, dead.

* * *

><p>Merlin gazed down upon the circle of stone he stood in.<p>

Had it been but five years time, since Salazar had found him here, broken and half dead?

He kneeled, letting his fingers trace the dust on the ground, trace the carvings in the stone. Rowena herself had come here, to study these very runes.

Even she could not decipher them.

"Here, again?"

Merlin stood readily, his wand drawn, rounding on the figure before him. She raised eyebrow at the weapon. "Oh.. It's you." he said as he slipped his wand back into his robes.

Verna walked past him, gazing down at the stone around them. Her back still to the young man that had just drawn a wand on her, she asked, "Why do you come here?"

"Why do you keep following me here?" Merlin retorted as he turned to look at her, but the elderly woman ignored him.

"If I answer your question," she replied as she turned to face him, the creases of her ancient face folding with each word, "will you answer mine?"

Merlin considered this for a fraction of a second before he nodded. Why not?

"These runes.. I have seen them before-" Verna confessed.

"What?" Merlin spluttered.

She lifted a hand, motioning him to silence, before she continued. "I've seen similar markings, on Mount Olympus, in Greece. But how they reach this place.." she whispered to herself as she gazed back down at the stone circle. Then, her head snapped back up to look at him. "And you?" she asked softly, invitingly.

"This is where they found me.. Where Salazar found me.. I just thought, that maybe, if I came back, I might-"

"Remember?" Verna finished for him.

"Yes." Merlin nodded.

"I'm afraid I do not have the answers you seek..." Verna responded, before striding past him, leaving him to his own thoughts.

"Wait!" Merlin called her as she began to depart. She froze in place, waiting for him to continue. "You say you saw similar runes in Greece.. Do you-?"

"I know naught what they do." she responded the unasked question, before leaving him.

Merlin gazed down at the stone, kneeled, closing his eyes as he felt the cool rock beneath his fingers.

"Who am I?" he muttered for the hundredth time.

* * *

><p><strong>August 17th, 1008<strong>

"We shall declare order, we shall declare peace, justice, and tranquility! The lands shall now the hand of Christ! This day forth, we pass an edict in the protection of our holy beliefs, against the tyrannical moves of the Pagans! We must stamp out their dark arts, end this violation of nature most purest!"

The crowd burst into endless applause as King Ethelred the Unready smiled at them all. Salazar watched on, his hood pulled over his head, watching silently as the city of London cheered the new declaration.

There was a reason Salazar was called the crafty one, however, and he had seen right through the English King's speech, his bold declarations.

No, this was not a declaration for the protection of the Christian religion. That was what the common folk were meant to believe, the shroud that kept them from the truth. No, it was the excuse the King needed to begin his purge.

What was it with these Muggles attempting to wipe them out, Salazar thought as he quickly escaped.

A Portkey in hand, another relic he had recovered from the Egyptian tomes of knowledge he had stored in his personal library, Salazar was transported from one end of the British Isles to the other. He silently wondered if it was possible to develop a way to transport oneself without the need for a Portkey.

Rowena had been researching it, but still, no results yet..

"What did you discover?" Godric questioned the second Salazar stepped through the door.

"Ethelred has declared utter warfare against any man, woman, and child of non Christian descent. His excuse, of course, is the protection of the Christian belief as a whole. This is a lie. He wants to hunt us down, like all the other mad men.." Salazar replied, distaste filling his tongue as the words slipped from his mouth.

The other three stared at him.

"Death and war? Is this what they believe Jesus came to spread?" Helga demanded hotly, annoyed.

"I doubt it has anything to do with religion." Salazar answered. "It is merely the King's pretext. the true war, I fear, however, has already been won. These common people are uneducated, unlearned, they know nothing! They are bended to the will of this King of theirs, twisted to it, and, knowing no other path, they accept it without an ounce of doubt. The cards have been played."

There was an echoing silence following the words, as is to be expected, before Godric finally broke it.

"They have been fighting this war for years. How will this make it any different?"

"Ah, but this time, they have the Pope behind them, one of the two great authorities within Europe, the other being Emperor Basil of Byzantine, whom we've also managed to anger." Salazar replied.

"The Pope!" Helga gasped.

Salazar nodded. "John the XVIII backs them. Before long, a full siege may fall upon this place. It seems someone has alerted the enemy of our presence here."

"You can't be serious.." Rowena practically moaned.

"We cannot take the chance. We must fortify every entrance. The boundaries of Hogsmede must be lifted. We can let no one in, or out-" Salazar began.

"Are you suggesting we shut out gates to the world?" Godric demanded.

Salazar glared. "We are at times of war! We cannot open ourselves to the world, it would be suicide to do as such, or don't you get that? Stop trying to be a bloody hero!" Salazar roared.

"Both of you, stop! This is no time to fight!" Helga called as Godric turned a nasty shade of crimson.

"We fortify the castle." Rowena spoke. "No one leaves, no one enters."

One would defy this edict.

Not our of stubbornness, but out of desperation.

Those who wore their hearts on their sleeves so lousily were easy prey to manipulations..

* * *

><p><strong>August 31st, 1008<strong>

A man half dead fell to his knees, gripping at the wound on his chest, gasping. The shrouded figure knelt before him, and she smiled at him. Smiled as she jabbed at his wounds, making him scream.

"You.. You killed my father.." the man hissed, even through the pain.

She stood, kicked him for what it was worth, enjoying watching him role over on the ground in pain. She then turned, looking away from the filth on the floor before her.

"I've killed many." she informed the man coldly. "But your father... How it joyed me to rip his heart from his chest, to whisper in his ears of how I would use you, how you would be my puppet and my slave, how, through you, I would bring this all about."

"BITCH!" the man roared as he managed to get to his feet. He ran at her, but swiftly, she turned, colliding her fist with his chest with a single swing. He doubled over in pain from the magically enhanced blow before she tossed him away with another wave of her hand, using a powerful display of wandless magic as she not only levitated him, but pinned him against a tree, the bark digging into his back.

"I have plotted and planned far too long.. Far too long to let you stop me, boy." she said coldly, emotionless.

"I trusted you!" he screamed at her. "I.. I trusted you.." he practically sobbed.

"And what a fool's choice that was." she informed him with a sick, sadistic smile. A blade penetrated his heart, and the man knew no more.

Part three was accomplished.

How many years had she plotted this, how many years had she planned this, for ll these years? It had been decades.. She had but to wait one more infuriating year..

Then, it would be done.

Her beloved master would rise again, and the world would know death.

* * *

><p>"Can you believe its been a year?" Helena whispered.<p>

"I know.." Abel whispered back as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his head on her shoulder. He inhaled the scent.

"God, I love you so much..." he told her.

A smile plastered on her face, Helena turned. For a moment, they just stood there, holding each other in the others arms, just smiling at one another. Then, slowly, they let the lips meet. It wasn't passionate, it wasn't lustful, it was the sweet touch between two people that loved each other.

Two people who would be royally screwed if either of their parents found out about their relationship, but that was completely impo-

"Abel? Helena? What are you two- I- what-"

The two teens jumped apart, then turned and stared at the doorway. There stood Salazar Slytherin himself, though his eyes were not locked on them. No, they were locked in the center between them, were the young couple had stood, were they had, instinctually, laced their fingers in the hand of the other.

"How long." Salazar demanded, his arms crossed as he gazed at the couple sternly. After all, this was forbidden. Very forbidden. This was the 11th century. You did not just date whoever the hell you wanted, you did not just enter into a relationship like this.

Usually, these were arranged by the parents.

Of course, wizards weren't your typical society, but there was one law in relationships that the held onto firmly; a male did not even think of touching a woman without the consent of her guardian first, or the approval of his own.

Salazar, ever the traditionalist, was very mad at the moment, for this reason. Had he not raised his son better than this?

"Dad-" Abel began.

"How long." Salazar said, shards of ice hearable in his voice.

Abel flinched.

"A year." Helena said, glaring at the other. She would not fear him. After all, she was her mother's daughter.

Salazar stared at her for a second, before the realization struck him. "So.. This is why you rejected the Baron..."

She nodded.

"Please, father, don't tell-" Abel began.

"You will not tell me what I shall and shall not do, boy." Salazar snapped.

"It's my fault!" Helena shouted as Salazar was turning to depart, no doubt going to inform Rowena of the affiars of their children. Salazar froze, his hand an inch from the door, before he turned slowly to face her.

"What?"

The young couple exchanged looks, Abel squeezing Helena's hand gently, encouraging her forth. Helena nodded at him, words passing between the two through looks alone. After all, when two grow up together, and the other face is ones first memory, through looks alone a thousand words can pass.

Then, she turned to face him, and spoke. "He.. He wanted to tell you, but I begged him not to. The Baron.. He has my mother swooned. If she discovered.. She would do all to keep us separate, believing it best for me. Please, do not tell her.. Please. I plan on doing it, but first I must convince her Abel is the one I love, the only one I will ever love. Please, if you have ever cared for us.." Helena pleaded.

Salazar seemed trapped. He did not know what to do, the situation not one he was accustomed to. After all, what could he say and what could he do?

"Father.. I've never been one to ask for things, you know it.. But, please.. If you love me, just give us time. Please." Abel pleaded.

Salazar closed his eyes, before finally, much to the relief of the couple, he nodded.

"Of course. Of course.. But!" he exclaimed, staring back and forth the young couple, lifting his finger dangerously. "If I catch either of you as much as kissing each other, I swear to the two of you..."

"You won't"

"We promise!"

They hastened to say. Satisfied, Salazar nodded.

Of course, there was one simple fact he had neglected.

They were teenagers.

* * *

><p><strong>November 23rd, 1009<strong>

The sunlight fell into the room, slowly seeping its way in through the window. It fell upon the face of a young man, who had yet to reach the age of fifteen. Almost, in a little over a month, he would reach that ripe age, but for now, he was but fourteen.

His eyes opened slowly and he glanced down at the girl in his arms, and he smiled, memories of last night streaming back into his consciousness. With his hand, he casually moved a lock of her dark hair from her beautiful sleeping face.

She was practically glowing as she slept there.

Then, a knock hit the door and the boy nearly jumped a mile in the air.

"Abel? Get up, we have training today!" his father called.

"I'm coming!" the teenager replied.

"Alright. I'll be in the courtyard, hurry up!" Salazar shouted back, before the distinct sound of his depart met the ears of his son.

Abel turned over, and lifted his hand, resting them upon Helena's shoulder's to shake her awake. At least, that was his intention at first. Instead, he ended up staring at her beautiful face.

By the ancients, he loved her so much..

Was there something he was suppose to do? He couldn't recall..

"ABEL!"

"Coming!" he jumped, before he began to shake his sleeping angel. It felt criminal, he thought, to disturb something so precious, so peaceful, so innocent.

"Wha-.. Abe, let me go back to-" Helena muttered before her eyes shot wide open. Gazing up at Abel, she smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"What is taking you so long?" Salazar's voice boomed from behind the door.

The couple jumped.

"Hide!" Abel hissed urgently.

Helena nodded, before slipping underneath the bed. Abel had just managed to zip up his pants and was lifting his shirt from the floor when the door burst open. Salazar stood there, his eyes narrowed as he advanced, closing the door discretely behind him.

"Dad, I'm changing-" Abel complained.

"Barely?" Salazar said as Abel pulled the undershirt over his head.

"I was.. Sleepy." Abel said lamely.

Salazar, not buying it, crossed his arms. "Is she in here?" he said in a very dangerously low tone.

"No!" Abel gave himself away, shaking his head frantically.

So, Salazar began to search the room.

"Dad, she isn't-"

"Silence!" Salazar snapped as he threw open the wardrobe. No Helena. He then turned, and began to walk towards the bed.

"Alright, I'll tell you why I'm not ready yet!" Abel exclaimed.

Salazar turned slowly.

"Why?"

"I.. Umm.. Had a.. You know..."

"A what?" Salazar demanded, hands on his hips.

"Wedrem.." Abel mumbled.

"What?" Salazar asked.

"Wet dream, alright! I was.. You know.."

Salazar's eyes widened in embarrassment as he fell for the deception. "Ah. I see. Well, son.. There is nothing unnatural about that, it is something most men have-"

"DAD! Out, please!" Abel began to push him out of the room.

"Of course. But next time, no excuses!" Salazar barked.

Abel nodded as Salazar departed. When he turned, there Helena stood, holding in a giggle.

"Wet dream?" she asked casually.

"Shut it." Abel growled playfully, blushing brilliantly as Helena laughed before wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning up to meet her lips to his taller frame.

* * *

><p>December 15th, 1009<p>

"We have to let them in." Callistus pleaded.

"We can't!" Godric slammed his fist down on the table before turning to face the other. "We cannot. What if its a trick?"

"What if it isn't?" Callistus countered hotly.

Godric wheeled around to face the other.

"We cannot take that chance." Godric said stubbornly.

"Is this what this place represents, is this what you want to be remembered for? The man who let the outcasts, the broken, burn when you could have extended your hand to held them?" Callistus demanded.

Godric turned back to him, before finally, he nodded.

"Alright.." he stood to full height.

Callistus smiled in relief, thanking the other man.

* * *

><p>"Where are we?" Merlin asked.<p>

"They call this place Avalon.." Verna whispered in response as she tossed aside a branch with her hand.

Together, the pair walked deeper and deeper through the jungle like vines that surrounded the place, the thick bushed and trees, before at last they broke through the brush.

"Why are we here again?" Merlin questioned after a couple more minutes.

"I told you.. I found more of those runes, many more.." Verna spoke, before she turned to look at him. "Maybe, together, we can decipher them."

Merlin just nodded, all the while thinking the following; for an old woman, this Verna sure was active as hell.

* * *

><p>Godric and Callistus walked together, in the dark of the night.<p>

After all, if the other founders discovered them, they were screwed.

They had reached the edge of what would one day be known as the Forbidden Forest.

"Here?" Godric asked.

Callistus merely nodded.

Godric drew his wand, waving it in patterns, causing the protective enchantments before them to crumble. Only a small section. The rest of the shield was safe, keeping away intruders.

"Thank you.." Callistus whispered.

"Of course." Godric smiled. His heart was too big, too big to see when he was being fooled, when the deception was woven right before his eyes. Blind, he was. Blind, he made this choice, like the fool he was.

Callistus walked through, and embraced one of those on the other side, before he led them into the protections. There were only five of them. Godric could hide them until the other founders agreed to end this paranoid defense system, right?

* * *

><p>AN; the next scene is the finale. It is more than half way written. In fact, I have about 80% of it done. School, however, dictates that I must go to sleep, lest I fall asleep during class.

Anyways, I can promise this; it will be up tomorrow. It's still technically part 3, I just cut part three into two parts because I never expected it to be over 10,000 words long before I even got to the conclusion.


	5. The Snake in the Grass, part 3b of 3

A/N; Well, the finale, the one you've all been waiting for.

Note; the insults Salazar screams are pretty damn modern. In my defense, I have no idea what curse words looked like a thousand years ago, unless you count bastard, but.. You get the idea. And I'm not sure if bastard actually counts as one. It means you are the son of two people who were unwed. Then again, back then, that was a thing you just did not do, so I suppose.. Anyways, I'm going to stop before I enter full rant mode.

Also, I know the Arthur from the legends was not a wizard! But, his sister was. Therefore, he will be in this, but he will end up loosing his powers, becoming the same old Arthur from legend. Gwen herself is also obviously from Arthurian Legend. She too, will end up loosing her powers. As for Soteria, you can look that up, but, unless you look at the right place, you won't get the meaning behind the name, and it has nothing to do with what it literally means. Of course, you could always wait to the end, but, if you are one of those people who look up absolutely everything, you are welcome to do so.

* * *

><p><strong>December 21st, 1009<strong>

A wand was held to a throat.

A gasp escaped the lips of the other.

"You've betrayed us.. Betrayed us all." Godric practically snarled.

To this, the other gave a maniacal, insane laugh. After all, he was going to die anyways, nothing he did now could change that fact.

"You've lost, old man.. They are coming.. We will slaughter your women, we will slay your children and leave their bloody corpses at your feet! They are coming!"

Godric felt, for the first time in his life, actual hatred.

Rowena had told them about his kind, the ilk that had massacred the Wizards in Eastern Europe, but it was different now, to have one before him. It was different, looking the monster in the eye, at a man who would strike him down without a second thought. This was the worst kind of the monster, the one who thought what he was doing was correct.

"Give me a reason.." Godric snarled at him, digging the wand deep into the others neck.

He laughed.

"Are you going to kill me, wizard? Are you going to strip the life from my bones, suck the breath of life from my body?"

"I would very well like to.."

"Go on, then. Its not like your kind have hearts, or are even capable of human emotions."

Godric stared at him, more rage, more hate filling him. He lifted the wand, intent on not killing him, but stunning him.

Then the entire castle shook in a great tremor, Godric momentarily lost his balance, and, in those few crucial seconds, he was shoved to the ground. The traitor turned, intent on fleeing.

Godric stood to chase him, but another tremor ripped at the earth, and, for a moment, he turned to look out of the tower, past the battlements here on the tallest of torrents, the Astronomy Tower.

What he saw made his breath hitch.

The wards had fallen..

The wards had failed them..

Years of hiding, and this was the conclusion; mass invasion by an army of Barbarian and Byzantine alike.

The wards had fallen, and Hogwarts was under attack...

Callistus then turned, and shouted a curse. Godric barely had time to lift up a shield.

"My mother was right!" Callistus shouted at him. "Your kind are vile, you are an abomination.. We will wipe out, kill you, hunt you to extinction!"

"You would turn on your own?" Godric demanded.

Callistus gave an insane laugh. That damn bloody laugh... Godric shot a curse, exactly what the other wanted. He dodged, and it struck the door Godric had enchanted shut.

Callistus fled through it, even as Godric chased after him.

"YOU COWARD! FIGHT BACK, YOU COWARD!"

* * *

><p>"Father, father! Wake up, damn it, wake!"<p>

"What.. Lemme sleep..."

"Father! The castle is under attack!"

"What!" Salazar Slytherin shot bolt upright, all drowsiness wiped from his eyes. "Under.."

"The ward have fallen, father.. They are coming.."

"What? But that.. No, not po-"

Then the castle shook with a new tremor. It was not a tremor of the earth but of the sky. It was the tremor of the defenses of the castle, breaking around them. The signal of the immanent attack.

"Let us go.." Salazar said as he rose.

The son nodded, helping his father to his feet.

"Abel.. Listen to me.. I want you to-" Salazar began.

"I'm not leaving you. I'll fight, alongside you. I won't hide, father, and you can't make me!" Abel snapped.

"Abel.. Please, listen-"

"No, you listen! This is as much my home as yours! It wouldn't.. Wouldn't feel right to hide and do nothing. I'm of age, aren't I?'

"You've yet to see fifteen summers pass!"

"Your point?"

"As stubborn as your mother.." Salazar grumbled, even as he drew his wand and held it at length and fashioned his armor.

"Come."

Eager, Abel stood and followed his father out the door.

He'd never make it back.

The two ran through the halls, the entire castle falling into full battle formation. Somehow, in the chaos, she managed to find them.

"Abel!"

Father and son turned as Helena sprinted towards them. She ran straight into Abel's arms, and, after years of hiding, she did nothing of the sort now. She latched her lips onto his, kissing him like she'd never kissed him before.

Salazar said nothing, he merely looked away politely.

None of the three noticed the man standing at the other end of the hall, his face turning an ugly red as it contorted in rage. That filthy little whore.. So this was why she had rejected him. In a different time period, it would not have mattered so much, but it was the 11th Century..

There would be hell to pay.

When they finally separated, Helena drew a charm from her robes, pressing in Abel's hands.

"What-"

"Bring it back to me.." she whispered.

"I will.." he promised, their foreheads colliding softly.

Another tremor struck. The two kissed softly one last time, before Abel turned to his father, and nodded.

Salazar nodded right back, and the two sprinted away as Abel slipped the eagle-shaped charm into his robes.

* * *

><p>The arrows rained down from the heaves.<p>

The assassins came in hordes.

Spells were cast, but there were too many.. Far too many.. But they were wizards, and their enemy, they were mortal men, and far easier to kill.

Men fought the battle. Woman rushed about, tending to the wounded.

Two held the courtyard against onslaught.

"Behind you!" Abel shouted.

Salazar turned, just in time to parry a strike. Then, waving his wand like a whip, he sent his assailant back.

They were everywhere.

The numbers seemed endless.

It was a brutal dance. Even the two trained wizards had difficulty, despite the fact that the enemy refused to go anywhere near them. A circle of the fallen surrounded them, and they stood there panting, waiting.

They just had to hold them off, just a bit longer.. Just a bit..

"CHARGE!" a voice thundered from the distance. Rowena was making her move.

The enemy did not see it coming, how could they? Out of nowhere, out of the shadows, out of thin air, they appeared. Curses were flung, bodies were flung, sparks it aflame.

Then Salazar felt himself being pushed out o the way suddenly, and he stumbled, not having expected it. His senses kept him from collapsing to the stone floor, but what he saw next made ice grow in his blood as he turned.

His son was clutching at his own neck. His hands were stained crimson. One long, thin arrow stuck through, between the head and the body, even as he collapsed to the ground.

He'd taken the arrow, taken the arrow meant for Salazar..

The arrow meant to slay the great sorcerer had struck the son..

"NO!" Salazar finally managed to shout when conscious thought entered his brain once more, but it was too late. He collapsed on his knees, lifted the head of his one and only son into his lap, staring into his dying eyes.

"Fa.. Fath.."

"No, please.. Please!" Salazar pleaded, tears running tracks down his cheeks.

A hand lifted up to touch his cheek. A broken smile crossed the face of the dying. Then the hand fell, fell to the cold stone floor. He head fell back, and grey eyes cold as steel lay there staring on forever at what no longer was.

A man howled.

It was the call of the broken.

The assassins advanced. Still, the broken howled. After all, how could he? How could he rise, and fight them now, with his son.. His only son..

"TO WAR!" Rowena cried. From her wand, a bright blinding bolt of blue energy streaked forth, striking down the enemy with power they had never witnessed, keeping them at bay. Like lightning, it struck at them, quick, fast, unstoppable.

Then she noticed Salazar.

For a second, her heart stopped beating from the shock alone.

The battle around her seemed to be moving in slow motion. The curses, the battle cries, the arrows, the swords. It all seemed unreal, all seemed like it wasn't happening, like it wasn't happening at all.

"Kill them all!"

That voice brought her back to the present.

No one messed with her students!

Rowena gave a battle cry as she turned, firing curses indiscriminately.

That's when he showed up.

As the battle raged on, lights flashing everywhere, fires burning, he walked calmly through the battle field, his eyes locked on Rowena Ravenclaw, and Rowena Ravenclaw alone, who stood in the center, whirling and twisting in a brilliant array of magical power, casting shields and shooting hexes all around while she herself was practically untouchable.

Then, she turned to face him, and fired a hex.

He lifted his hands, and redirected it.

Caught by surprise, she barely managed to block it. The man smiled. Rowena growled, before lifting her wand, casting one more powerful. This, too, was redirected.

"What..." she gasped.

"Filthy witch.. I am immune to your dark magic!" the man declared, before lifting his hand. He did not touch her, but she cried in pain as she fell back...

The battle seemed to freeze.

Witches and Wizards turned as Rowena fell to her knees, as the man advanced, coming closer, closer...

"You won't touch her!" Io charged.

She swung a sword at him. This, he dodged, each and every blow, before he kicked the instrument from her hands. She drew a wand, and cursed at him.

He redirected it.

It stuck her, sending her flying, spinning as if stuck within a tornado, before Io fell to the ground, hard.

"NO!" Rowena screamed.

Io gasped, and, the next thing she knew, a knife had been driven through her chest. She gave a miserable moan, before everything went a blissful black..

"Now.. Your turn.." the man turned to Rowena.

* * *

><p>"Callistus!" Godric screamed even as he chased the other.<p>

They turned one last corner, and Callistus ran, ran straight into the Great Hall, where Helga was treating the wounded.

"Callistus!"

Callistus turned as he stood at the end, Godric chasing after him.

Helga stared at him, as did everyone else in the room.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE!" Helga exploded. "Get out there and fight!"

"Has he not told you what he's done!" Callistus laughed.

Everything froze.

No one liked that laugh..

"Godric.." Helga spoke.

He did not respond.

"Tell them." Callistus smiled. "Tell them. Tell them how it was you who let the boundary drop, you who gave me what I needed to see this place destroyed! Tell them, tell them how this is all your fault, tell them, Gryffindor!"

Horror. That was the only way to describe the expressions of those in the room..

"Godric.." Helga whispered. Then it hit her. Everything hit her, all at once, as she rounded on Callistus. "You..." she said dangerously. "He was right.. Salazar was right about you!

"Congratulations, give the woman a pri-" Callistus began, beaming at her.

He never finished.

Helga did not even utter a spell, but she didn't need to. When she waved her wand, the raw power coming from her alone struck him, and his body was flung backwards, breaking every bone in his body instantaneously. Many flinched in fear, power seeming to seep from Helga's figure before she rounded on Godric.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

* * *

><p>The man moved his hand in a backhanding motion.<p>

Rowena was beating back as if he had struck her.

"You filthy witch.. I will be the death of you!"

She shot ever spell, jinx, hex, curse, charms- anything, she could think of. All was reflected. Then, he lifted his hand, and she fell to her knees. Rowena felt her own magic compressing upon her, her own magic crushing her as she fell to her knees. She was dying. He was killing her with her own magic, and he had yet to lay a finger on her.

"What.. What are you.." she managed to choke out.

He kneeled before her, smiling.

Salazar caressed the cheek of his son, his dead son, his only son.. The pale faced smiled at him, even as the eyes had lost all light, even as death swung its path around him. The scythe swung and swung as the Keeper of Souls reaped his reward, as tears fell from Salazar's eyes onto the dead form of his son. That's when he began to shake, to shake in rage, anger, fury, hatred. Hatred. It filled him, encompased him, until all he could see was red.

"I am your opposite, witch.. While your kind are born with magic running in your veins, mine are born dead to it.. I am dead to your powers, immune to it. I am God's balance to your evil, I am his chosen to wipe the breath of life from your eyes, I am-"

Salazar Slytherin roared like a mad man as he rose. They had taken his son from him.. No, no others.. He would not, he could not allow it. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he exploded.

Rowena gasped. No. Not that spell, any spell but-

The man grinned as he stood, lifting his hand, expecting it to redirect.

It didn't.

Whatever defenses he had, there is a reason it is called the unblockable curse.

He gave a small scream as it struck him. For a second, it seemed like he might reflect it, and a deadly bolt of green energy even shot out from where his hands and the curse collided, but, in the end, the dark magic consumed him. The assassin was flung back, his body crashing against the stone of the castle before collapsing to the ground, gone forever.

Rowena looked up, shocked, but Salazar ignored her. Instead, he gave a savage cry, and, tears in his eyes, he became the Angel of Death that day. His wand weaved a path like a whip, destroying everything, all in its path.

Emotions truly fueled a wizards power...

* * *

><p>"Why have you brought me here?" Merlin demanded.<p>

They stood in a great circle of stone, a massive alter before them. Pillars surrounded what appeared to an ancient shrine of worship. To what, Merlin could only guess.

"As we speak, Hogwarts is under attack." Verna informed him, turning to face him.

"What.. WHAT! Then we must go back-" Merlin exclaimed, turning to depart. As he did so, the runes lit, a great barrier forming, keeping them trapped within. Slowly, he turned. "Verna.." he said, suspicion leaking in his voice.

"Once the night is complete.. It shall be done. On this day, a milenia ago, my precious master was imprisoned in stone! This day, I intend to liberate him!" Verna exclaimed.

"What the hell are you-" Merlin rounded on her.

Instead of answering, Verna simply lifting her wand, pointing it above them. Silver shot from it, weaving a silver mist that formed into the eyes of her memory.

"I Impiriused Europa, I forced her to say the words she said, forced her to lie.. It was necessary.. Once she was useless, I killed her." Verna confessed coldly, ignoring the way Merlin stared in horror as the memory Verna killed Europa. "Callistus, of course, came to me. He trusted me. He wanted me to help him find his brother. He didn't believe his mother, and he was right about that much.. But, what he did not know was I already had his brother. Callistus was so overjoyed to see him, he did not question it, nor did he see the knife in his brother's hands.."

Merlin stared in transfixed horror as he witnessed Ganymede stab Callistus, as the other fell to his knees.. As the memory Verna attacked him, as he shouted that he had trusted her..

"He had found me, you know.. In Greece, it was Ganymede who liberate me. He had seeked me, after escaping the hold of the Byzantines. Legends spoke of where I was entombed, where my body lay trapped.. Or do you not remember, Merlin?"

Merlin watched as the memory Ganymede walked upon a stone circle, identical to the one he had been found in, how the magic over took him, how he collapsed to his knees..

"He underestimated me. He may have freed me from the stone prison you placed me in, Merlin, but there was a price; Ganymede lost his very soul that day, and I took it, I fed upon his magic to make myself whole.."

Ganymede fell. Mist surrounded him as the stone alter before the stone circle cracked in two, as the mummy like Verna walked upon the surface of it, as she fed upon the other, on his powers.. On his very soul..

"My puppet in place, I let the pieces fall. Godric was easy prey..."

Merlin watched as Ganymede convinced Godric to open the shields, he watched as Ganymede knelt before Verna, telling her it was done.. He watched as the walls of Hogwarts defenses fell, as the hoard of assassins penetrated the entire place..

"Why... Why.. Why have you done this!" Merlin roared.

Verna smiled. She waved her wand, and the memory faded. She then turned to face Merlin, still smiling that smile.

"This.. This is why." she told him, waving the wand over herself, sparks falling upon her.

Merlin gasped, something akin to terror striking at his heart.. His memories might be lost, but he had no doubt as to who stood before him..

"Morgana.. Morgana le Fey.." he whispered.

For the glamour charms had fallen, and the dark witch herself stood there, that blasted smile still painted on her face.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Do you not remember? Do you not remember what you did, Merlin? Then let me show you!"

Before he could stop her, she had jabbed the wand at him. Merlin fell to his knees, memories flooding back to him..

* * *

><p>The ruins of the dead where all around them. Broken stone, charred remains of what had once been. Salazar stood in the center of it all, panting. Cuts ran along his body, but he did not seem to care.<p>

Even Rowena was scared to go anywhere near him.

The enemy had fled.

After their greatest weapon had fallen to Salazar's hand, they knew the battle was lost, and they had fled.

Salazar said nothing as he walked to the body of his only son. He knelt, and drew the eagle charm. He stood, turned to look at Helena. Tears ran down her face, and her expression was cold. There was nothing. She was gone.

Salazar walked up to her, then let the charm slip into her hands.

This caused it.

She broke into tears, and before long, she was in Salazar's arms, screaming to the world as he held her.

"ABEL! ABEL, ABEL!"

He was silent, even as he held the screaming teen.

"Salazar.. What-?" Rowena asked.

Salazar did not answer.

His eyes, they were fixed on Godric as walked onto the battlefield. Letting go of the girl, Salazar advanced. "YOU! WHERE WERE YOU, WHERE WERE YOU WHEN WE NEEDED YOU, WHEN YOU NEEDED YOU HERE TO HELP US, TO FIGHT ALONGSIDE US!"

Godric flinched.

"I'm sorry.. It's all.. All my fault."

Even the wind stopped blowing at the words.

"What.." Salazar said, his voice dangerous, murderous...

"He tricked me! Callistus tricked me, he decieved me into letting them-"

Godric did not finish.

Because, at that point, Salazar attempted to murder his brother in all save blood.

* * *

><p>"Do you see!" Morgana screamed.<p>

Merlin moaned. Everything, it was coming back too fast, too hard, it was-

_He had fallen to his knees. Everywhere around him, it seemed, a wand was drawn to attack him._

_"Don't kill me!" Merlin shouted, not an ounce of fear in his voice._

_"Mistress!" someone called._

_Out of the trees, she came, gazing down upon him. Her golden hair shined brightly, her azure eyes danced dangerously. Power beat from her very presence, an aura of power surrounding her._

_"Son of the Serpent Tongue.. Why come you here?" she demanded._

_"Please.. I want to help.. I want to help stop my father."_

_Merlin's answer left her shocked to say the lease._

_"And why should I trust you?" she demanded._

_"He raped my mother... Repeatably. The result is before you." Merlin snarled._

_Suddenly, her hand was around his neck, and she was gazing into his eyes. Then, she assaulted his mind, ripped through the defenses, penetrating into the depths without discretion. Merlin screamed._

_"He tells truth." she said as she let him go, standing once more. "Let him go."_

_The magic keeping him bound released, and, panting, Merlin looked up at the woman, who had extended a hand. he took it, and rose._

_"Who.. Who are you?" he asked._

_"I am Hera. I am the last Olympian.." she said simply, before turning, leaving him baffled._

Merlin gasped as he fell out of the trance.

The magic was beating around him.

"Ah.. It has begun.." Morgana whispered gleefuly to herself.

Merlin glared up at her.

"What has begun?" he demanded.

She waved her hand, her hand, and he saw as a visual of Hogwarts formed.

Merlin's jaw dropped.

Salazar.. Versus Godric..

* * *

><p>"Salazar!" someone shouted.<p>

"I'm sorry!" Godric screamed.

"Sorry? SORRY! Sorry will not get my son back, you fucking asshole, you son of a bitch, you bloody bastard, how dare you apologize!"

The Earth itself shook with the magic. Salazar lifted the stones all around him, letting them melt in his rage as they lashed like a whip at Godric. It was all he could do to keep the onslaught back, as he fired blast after blast at the lashing molten rock, cooling it instantly as it fell.

Salazar gave a cry.

Lightning shot from his wand, not at Godric, but at the sky. The clouds burst. Spinning his wand, Salazar caused a whirlwind, before he began to lash it all out on Godric. Ice and water, moving in shapes that you would swear were demons straight from hell attacked Godric as he barely managed to hold his own.

* * *

><p>Merlin watched in horror.<p>

Morgana had done this.. She had done this..

"WHY!" he thundered, glaring.

At this point, more memories stuck, even as the runes lit up more, brighter, stronger..

_"He destroyed us.. We Olympians, we deemed ourselves Gods.." Hera gave a cold laugh, before she turned, a false smile plastered on her lips. "He showed us we were not, he showed us we were naught but as mortal as you.. He was the whisperer in the shadows, turned us against one another.. Only Hestia saw through the shroud.. She was the first." Hera said, closing her eyes._

_"The.. First?" Merlin asked, confused._

_She turned so quickly it was as if she had not moved at all, her voice echoing as she shouted, like that of a ghosts wail. "He killed her, he killed my sister, sacrificed her and fed upon her powers! He murdered her!"_

_The fires in the small camp seemed to die down as a cold breeze passed over them all. Hera's eyes danced with a dangerous light, her golden hair moving with the wind._

_"If we do not stop him.. Then.. What happens?" Arthur spoke, standing from where he had leaned against the wall. Hera turned away, walking forward, as if in a trance, lost in her own memories as she gazed out at the landscape before them._

_"Then we.. And all life.. Is doomed." Hera said solemnly._

_"So.. If we fail.." Gwen spoke slowly._

_"All will be lost.." Hera replied. _

_"But.. How.. Why?" Soteria spoke._

_Hera turned to her. "He is the beast that thirsts. His hunger knows limit naught. His lips are parched with ancient thirst, a thirst which only power can satisfy... Once we are done and gone, he shall feed upon life, upon all life, until there is nothing left, and only then will he be satisfied."_

_"And yet you trust him." Arthur pointed the finger to Merlin._

_Merlin glared at him. "I am not my father!" he shouted. The earth shook with his magic. It shook with the power coursing in his veins, the power of he meant to be the heir to this lord of darkness. The power of the slayed Olympians, beating through his veins. _

_"He means us no harm.. This I have seen." Hera said coldly._

_Arthur, however, continued to eye Merlin with suspicion._

_The other sighed, looked away, shaking his head in annoyance._

_"I amt he Goddess of the family, the guardian of it. It was my duty to keep us united, to keep Olympus from turning on itself.. I have failed in this.. I failed, and now, as price, I am last of my kind.." Hera interrupted them._

_When she turned back to face them, tear tracks fell down her face. "Only together, can we conquer him.. Only together, do we have the strength to save this world. We cannot fight among ourselves, I shall not allow it!"_

_Again, the winds flayed with the emotions of she once worshiped as a Goddess, bended to them completely and utterly._

Merlin collapsed back onto the floor, panting.

"What.. What is.. What is-"

Then, the memories struck him once more, a whirlwind of thought.

* * *

><p>"MY SON IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!" Salazar thundered.<p>

He lashed out his wand, tears falling from his eyes in endless streaks. Godric parried each attack, but he could not bring himself to fight back, he could not.. After what he had done.. Perhaps Salazar was right, perhaps he should let him kill him.

Instinct defeated that 'logic'.

"STOP!" Helga attempted to reason, but Salazar was beyond reason.

Wave after wave fell upon Godric, who reflected each blow. They struck the castle, stone flaying about them. Enchanted demonic flames ripped all around the two combatants as Godric twisted and turned, shooting of each demonic steed as it made its way towards him.

"I WILL KILL YOU!" Salazar boomed.

* * *

><p><em>"TOGETHER!"<em>

_"Traitorous spawn, you would betray me? Me! Fool!" the dark one thundered._

_Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Soteria.. Ancestors four fought together with all their might, all their power, all their strength._

_And he. He stood in the center, serpent staff weaving in waves of his own magic as he fought them._

_Even with the power of the four of them, they were over matched, over powered.. A staff slammed into the ground, and the earth itself shook with it. Ancestors four were tossed back, defenseless as the sorcerer advanced, ready to kill, ready to slay them, each one of-_

_"ENOUGH!" Hera thundered as she materialized._

_The Serpent-Tongues turned, and he smiled at her. "Ah.. Hera, the last-"_

_"I surrender my life, I surrender the power beating in me, I surrender it all- for Olympus, I condemn you to OBLIVION!"_

_Then, she did what none of them expected._

_She took her concentrated Godly essence, and Hera's Wrath was unleashed.._

Merlin fell back as Morgana slashed her wand at him, blood coming from his cheek.

"Ancestors four, you imprisoned my great master.. Here, you imprisoned him, on this very alter, and here I shall liberate him!" Morgana cried, turning letting her magic flow from her up to the alter.

"This.. This is why.. You are insane, Morgana!" Merlin cried as he rose, wiping blood from his lips. "Should he rise again, should you free him-"

Morgana turned, a wide smile painted on her lips. "I shall be his most faithful, his most loyal and rewarded of servants! Watch, watch as Godric and Salazar fight each other to the death!" Morgana cried, pointing to the mist above them, weaving in the images of Hogwarts, as Salazar beat Godric back, as the earth itself shook in their titanic duel..

"Ancestors of the Hogwarts four, you bound my master.. I have brought them together again, and by their blood, by the breaking of their pacts, shall the bonds be undone!" Morgana screamed.

Then, the memories struck again..

_The Demon fell to his knees, his power, his great infinite power broken. The outline of the Goddess was before him, faint, but there. She smiled at them all, before turning to give the Demon a snarl._

_"I may fade away this day.. But you are no longer invincible.. My family.. My family avenged.." Hera whispered. She had just enough time to lift her hand up towards him, before she disintegrated before their very eyes, leaving this world, forever.._

_"HERA!"_

_But it was too late.. She.. She was gone._

_"This.. This is not over!" The Demon screamed as he rose. He turned, using the last of his once great powers, and he lashed out at them with all his might._

_But the four held, and the tide.. It was turning.._

"Let my master rise once more, let the blood of the descendants pour!" Morgana cried. Merlin panted as he looked up at her, as she began to levitate of the floor. The magic in the air was so thick he could see it with his week, mortal eyes, see it as it swooned around them.

"Me.. You needed me!" Merlin realized.

She smiled at him. How he hated that blasted smile...

The memories struck, they struck again, and they struck hard.

_They battle was like a carefully interwoven dance._

_The Demon against the four, the four ancestors of the Hogwarts four._

_From the blood of Arthur, Godric._

_From the blood of Gwen, Helga._

_From the blood of Merlin, Salazar._

_From the blood of Soteria, Rowena._

_"I shall not- I cannot be defeated!" the Demon chanted._

_His arrogance was his own undoing._

_"Come on father.. Fight me like a man!" Merlin charged at him. A fist swung. A hand closed around a throat. The younger was slammed upon the stone with such force that it cracked._

_The Demon snarled. "I will kill you.. Just like your dear mo-"_

_"NOW!" Soteria cried._

_The bait had been taken._

_The demon was distracted._

_The other three concentrated their powers, and, as Hera had before them, they sacrificed them. Merlin himself was the final key. As his father attempted to raise a shield, Merlin took dagger from his cloak, and stabbed him._

_The Demon gave a faint moan._

_Then it all struck him, and he was lifted fro the ground._

_Merlin stood, panting. _

_"By my magic.. By the magic of all of us, of the four of us, I bind you! I bind you, eternally! Only through the breaking of us can the liberation of you be done, the spells broken, the enchantments undone. Father, I BIND YOU!"_

_"NO!" The Demon cried._

_Power shot up into the air._

_The magic was thick as the monster was bound to stone.. But a single shard of it broke free, shooting forth, impaling itself in one like a stave._

_Soteria fell, panting. She looked down at her chest, at the wound there. At the blood there._

_"We did it, we- GWEN!" Arthur cried._

_Gwen turned, and gasped as she saw the fallen Soteria. She ran to her, knelt by her side, pulling the instrument free._

_"Heal her!" Arthur screamed._

_She tried. She failed. Her powers.. They were gone.._

_"MOVE!" Merlin shouted. Gwen hasted, obeying as she moved out of the way. Merlin knelt, lifted his hand, concentrating. Were the other had failed, he did not. He was the only of the three not to sacrifice his powers.._

_Soteria gasped._

_"Last daughter of Hectate, don't you dare die on me now!" Merlin screamed._

_She nodded._

_Then, at last, it was done. Soteria panted slightly, but rose none the less. The four glanced back to the stone, the stone which now bound the darkest sorcerer the world had ever known, the Slayer of the Great Olympians.. Bound, forever.._

"I killed Arthur. I killed Guinevere, I killed them, I killed them all!" Morgana cried.

Merlin glanced up, glaring death at the woman.

"And now.." she smiled, looking down at Merlin, "The circle is complete. I needed you, your magic, for it was you who bound the master. I needed your descendants to turn on one another, to fracture apart, to break the enchantment. I knew I could not kill you, so instead, I bound you to stone.. Then I fled to Greece. There, I knew Ganymede would find me as I bound myself there.. And now, the circle is complete! MY MASTER SHALL RISE AGAIN!"

"Not.. If I have anything to say about it!" Merlin cried, standing, and, with his bare hands, he shot forth a bolt of lighting at her.

The duel of the century had begun.

* * *

><p>"Salazar, stop!"<p>

Hogwarts lay in ruins around them. Salazar was panting, glaring death at the injured Godric. Cuts grazed the side of the auburn haired man, all over his flesh, cutting into him. Salazar glared one last time, before stepping away.

"I once called you brother.. Know this, wherever I travel, wherever I move.. I shall always spite your name, because my hatred of you is now complete..."

Godric flinched.

Salazar turned, and departed without another word. He did not leave the castle, not yet.. There were things to be done. Godric could not be trusted not to mess up again. He would construct a chamber, and, within, hide one final guardian, for the Wizarding race could not be allowed to be destroyed..

Helena ran to him. In the chaos all around them, none noticed.

None save the Baron..

"Where will we go?" she whispered.

He turned to her. "We?"

She glanced at him. "I cannot stay here, you cannot leave me-" she began.

"I will take you nowher-" Salazar began hotly.

"I- ugh.." Helena nearly collapsed. Salazar caught her, his hand grazing on her chest, and he gasped, helping her back to her feet.

"Helena.." he whispered.

"What?" she asked, still dazed.

"You.. You're pregnant.." he informed her.

"What? No, I ca-" her expression then molded into a sweet smile, as she looked down at her stomach. "His child.. His child, in me.. One last part of him.." she smiled.

Under different circumstances, Salazar would have exploded. But he had just lost his son.. As he touched her stomach, a strange expression crossed his eyes. His grandson was in that womb.. The last member of his family was in that womb, in this woman..

"You will come with me.. We leave, together.." Salazar said.

Helena nodded. It was what she wanted, after all.

* * *

><p>"The Master will rise again!" Morgana cried.<p>

"YOUR BLOODY MASTER WILL BURN IN HELL WHERE HE BELONGS!" Merlin bellowed.

Her magic, it beat about the place. Power rose from Avalon, filling the skies around it, around the alter.

"You shall not stop me!" she cried.

Merlin, however, was done playing games..

As the stone binding his father began to crack, Merlin did what Hera had taught him long ago. It was an ancient technick(sp?), developed by the Olympians. It's use meant certain death, but he no longer cared for his life..

"No.. No.. I SURRENDER MY MAGIC!" Merlin bellowed.

Morgana's eyes widened.

She attacked him with lighting.

It failed to even touch him as Merlin rose in the air. The magic of the other three, of Arthur, of Gwen, of Soteria filling him, Merlin let it explode from him. Morgana cried a call of defeat, but it was too late. All of Avalon was blown away as the magic spewed from Merlin.

And he smiled.

He smiled as he, like Hera, began to fade from existence.

Then, Morgana laughed..

Merlin gasped..

"Your magic bound him.. Now, it frees him.. And my master rises again.." Morgana spoke, even as the fire burned at her, and then she screamed. She screamed the cry of agony as her body was ripped to pieces, gone, burned and charred, turning to smoke itself as Morgana le Fay at last knew death..

Merlin fell to his knees.

Another was before him.

He looked up at his beaming father.

"The swine returns.."

With his bare hand, the Demon ran the son through. Merlin gasped.

"You've failed.. And I rise again!"

Merlin spoke not, but looked up at the other, and cried. "I may die.. But I die proud!"

And with those final words, Merlin disintegrated.

And all of Avalon was obliterated.

* * *

><p>The weeks passing the winter Solstice were cold and cruel.<p>

A chamber was built, a basilisk was hatched.

Salazar and Helena fled, Helena taking the Diadem. With it, her mother could find them.. Now, there was no way. They made sure to leave at separate times, to keep Rowena from growing aware of their plot.

They were not alone.

Many were those who abandoned Hogwarts, who followed Salazar, their faith lost in the other three.

Helga watched with tears in her eyes as so many left..

In years time, they would settle in Scandinavia, where Salazar would found the Drumstang Institute.

Helena gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The boy, was of course, named after his father. The girl, after her late Grandmother, Ruth.

Though the years were not calm. Salazar organized several back strikes against the Muggles. He personally infiltrated Italy, assassinating Pope John the XVIII for his role in the assault of Hogwarts.

Basil the II eluded them for years more.

But the Baron perused.

Helena fled to her home land, Bulgaria, to keep the Baron from discovering her children, and to keep him from letting them feel his wrath.

He killed her, in Albania, before committing suicide himself.

When at last, all four founders knew death, the Sorting Hat breathed its first breath. With it, Horan, the eldest Wizard from the very founding of the school, began the tradition of sorting the students into the four separate houses.

As Morgana had predicted, segregating the students in four would cause tensions for centuries to come, lashing out in great wars and spewing out Dark Lords to take the mantel upon themselves, over and over.

And the Master, the Shadow, the Serpent-Tongued?

He now walked the world of the living once more. His powers a mere fraction of their former glories, and with no Olympians to feed upon, the wraith remained in the shadows, hidden for centuries. He struck, from time to time, through puppets and unwilling pawns, from Grindelwald to Voldemort.

And, hidden within the bowels of Hogwarts Castle, the Great King of Serpents slept, slumbering, waiting to be called forth again..

* * *

><p>Okay, now I'm done! Mind you, this was all one part, but, as it is way over 12,000 words, I cut part 3 into part 3a and part 3b. But, there you have it.<p>

As for Morgana's Master, Merlin's father, he is the shadow Olethea was talking about in my Next Gen story.

Hectate is the Greek Goddess of Witchcraft and what not. Soteria was the last daughter of Hectate, meaning Rowena was descended directly from the first living witch(in this story, at least)

Anyways, I AM FINALLY DONE! Ahh, that took forevers...

Any new one shot requests? Oh yeah, and review!


	6. Dementor's Curse Except 1

A/N; this scene needs editing. Lots and lots of it. But, as it's just a preview, I'm okay with that.

Very short excerpt from Next Gen: Dementor's Curse.

* * *

><p>Albus could barely see in front of him. Why the whether chose to do this to them, he didn't know. The fog was thick and it was difficult to see anything. He could barely see five feet ahead of him in this mist. The white around him practically looked like it could be cut with a knife.<p>

How was he suppose to find the Golden Snitch in all of this?

Albus soared through. He saw a flash of green and turned to his left, seeing Scorpius flying beside him.

"Tailing me, Malfoy?" Albus demanded with a small smirk on his lips.

"Like I'm gonna let you get that snitch before me!" Scorpius countered with a mischievous glint and his eyes full of determination.

Albus rolled his eyes and turned his head to look around. He spotted the gold, faint but there.

"Who said anything about letting me!" Albus called before descending down towards the small golden ball.

He never noticed that the other never followed.

Albus ripped through the clouds and the mist, all around him, moving towards the snitch. Faster he went, he had to reach it! But, why was everything getting so cold? And who turned off the noise? Huh. Odd. However, other than the odd temperature drop around them, Albus noted nothing else. Could feel nothing else. Just a little closer, just a little closer, just-

"GOT IT!" Albus hollered joyfully as he caught the snitch, and he looked around.

All color fled from his face.

Dementors, clad in dark cloaks and robes made of tatters, descending everywhere. Seriously? Another attack? Now? When were these damn things going to give up? He watched as silver patronusas(sp?) beet back the shadows from every corner, even witnessed Uncle Neville executing one particular Dementor with what appeared to be a silver whip that burned through the Dementor's flesh.

Albus looked around, and he felt his heart skip a beat, before he shot forth.

James, falling.

Tumbling through the skies.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Uncle Neville bellowed, a massive toad jumping forth from his wand. Albus had, at one point, years ago, laughed at the patronus. I mean, come on, a toad? But, right now, said toad was radiating endless energy, and it looked fearsome to behold as the Dementors cowered.

Albus turned his attention back to James, watching as one Dementor caught his brother. Except, this one was different. It looked different than the rest. It wore the same tattered robes, except it's were the purest of black, while the rest had a faded look of blue. It seemed to swallow all light around it. The skin was decayed, but it had eyes. And the hood... Most Dementors keep their hood on.

This one didn't.

And this one had eyes, shimmering, eerily glowing blue eyes. It wasn't a natural blue, it was a malevolent sort, with just a hint of Avada Kedavra green in there. The skin wasn't as broken as the rest. And, it wasn't cowering in the presence of the Patronus. In fact, when Uncle Neville sent it at the particular Dementor, it swatted it away like a fly, not even flinching.

Several students and teachers seemed to decided this was means for concentrating attack on this particular Dementor, when it plunged a hand into James' chest. It didn't rip James' skin, or his flesh. Instead, it passed through his body like one passes through a ghost.

Then, the Dementor lifted it's other arm, and from it, massive blue shot fort in tantalizing waves.

Screams filled the stadium, the screams of all but one. Albus, for whatever reason, seemed immune to the energy. His broom, on the other hand... He gave a gasp as he rolled out of the sky. He barely managed to jump off in time, the broom spiraling out of control, crashing far off.

Albus picked up his wand, and looked around. The Dementors were ignoring the rest of the students, and seemed to surrounded James, and only James. Everyone else fell to whatever energy was beating from the chief Dementors' hand.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Albus bellowed as he charged.

The Dementors seemed surprised that a mere second year appeared immune to whatever their master was doing. Two of them charged at Albus as he whipped out his wand. He felt cold, oh so cold. So, he decided to fight ice with fire. He couldn't preform a patronus, not yet, but he was damn handy with flame spells.

"Incendio!" he cried.

One of the Dementors screeched and backed away.

The other, however, grabbed him by the throat, and lowered it's hood, pressing it's mouth close to Albus'.

Albus gasped, thinking this was the end, when-

Nothing.

The Dementor frowned at him, actually frowned at him, as it found it could not touch the boy's soul. Albus gave a grunt, and hit the damn thing square in the chest. It recoiled back, not in pain, but surprise.

Albus growled and began shouting out spells at random, trying to get to his brother.

The Dementors seemed to fear him, backing off.

"Stop the boy!" the chief Dementor commanded, and Albus was left at a loss for words. It spoke in English, clear as day. How did it now English? Or any human language, for that matter?

Suddenly, Albus was flung, hard. He might be immune to their powers, but, for old, frail looking bags of decaying flesh, Dementors sure were strong... Albus gave a growl as he got back up, and another Dementor attacked, trying to choke the life out of him.

A;bus gasped, gripping at the hands, praying for it to stop as everything began to go dark- and, just like that, like magic, the Dementor cried out and let go as if burned.

Then, James gave out a cry, a horrible broken cry. Albus turned the color of pavement as he turned to look, and, for a few seconds, he was sure his heart really did stop beating. The Chief Dementor had ripped some sort of blue-silver ball out of James' chest, and Albus instantly knew it was his brother's soul. The blue energy waves had ceased, but the others all around were too broken to do a thing. James had no light in his eyes as he fell to the ground. The Dementor holding his soul looked up at Albus, right in the eyes, and smiled.

It was creepy, seeing a Dementor smile at you.

Hate overwhelmed fear and disgust as Albus gave a battle cry and charged.

The Chief rolled it's eyes at him, something else Dementors didn't do, before he lifted his hand. Albus was hit with some sort of telekenisis that sent him reeling before the dozens of Dementors around him began to descend into the skies above, James' soul in the Chief's hands, with the broken body of James Potter left behind to rot as Albus gave an ear piercing scream as he held on to his brother's limp form.

James wasn't dead, he was still breathing. But, for all intents and purposes, he would be better off if he was.

As Albus cried, all thought left him.

His brother's soul was gone.

Taken, by some sort of Dementor like thing high on steroids, and, as the unconscious began to awake to Albus' cursing and screaming, everything in the world seemed lost in a sea of confusion, hurt, and pain.


	7. Rescue Part 1

__A/N; the whole rescue thing seems to be coming out into three parts. Maybe four. I'm almost done typing up the rest of this. I already have the next one finished, so it should be up a few minutes after this one.

In case some of you are confused, this is the scene(s) where Keyro and Mark are attempting to rescue Neville. If it's confusing, sorry.

* * *

><p><em>Rescue- Part 1<em>

The hand connected with the face. The head swung back, over and over, with the force of the blow, followed by spit right in the face.

"How. Do. We. Get. To. The. Eternal. Plane!" Shena demanded.

"Go to Hell." Keydo spat, the lines of his face set firm, his eyes shining with determination, stupidity, and just a touch of stubbornness.

"Been there, done that." Shena waved it off. Then, a hand to his chest, followed by burning flames. Over and over, filling him to the brim. The head fell back as the body convulsed against its own volition. It was like dying, over and over, being brought back when you were just on the edge, then repeating it all just for the hell of it.

Then, she stopped. Keydo's head fell down, and he breathed heavily. She grabbed him by the back of the head, pulling the hair, forcing him to look at her. "Tell me how! How do we penetrate the Eternal Plane, how!" Shena screeched.

"You don't." Keydo said calmly.

She gave a frustrated sigh, and then smacked him again, hard, with all the force she could muster. The head fell back again and Keydo gave a groan. He was tired. Every muscle ached from the torture he had been subjected to. But it would all be over, all be over soon.

"Neville!" Shena called. Keydo looked up as the wizard entered the room. The eyes where glazed over. It wasn't Neville, not really. The real Neville was locked inside that skull, in some fantasy world. In that word, he likely had everything he had ever wanted, his parents alive, an end to the war, so many things.

It seemed almost criminal, the need to pull him from a world where he had no worries, where there was peace. But, it wasn't real. It wasn't real, and, as long as Neville was locked transfixed by the illusion, everything was going to hell.

Neville didn't speak. He never spoke, not anymore. Not unless he needed to cast a spell. He was mindless, at this point, after all. He just nodded and grunted to show he was listening, like some sort of well-trained dog.

"Entertain our guest." Shena commanded.

Neville turned and lifted the wand. Keydo smiled. All going according to plan. Then, thought was lost under excruciating agony followed the hot burning feel of a whip, even though there was none, ripping into his back, peeling flesh from bone...

* * *

><p>The two figures glanced at the fortress before them.<p>

It looked old, run down, and broken, but was nothing of the sort. A wall on the side had crumbled to the ground. The rubble, tall as a mountain, was littered in sentries. There was a stone bridge that ran the center of the entire fortress. It, like everything else, looked on the verge of collapse. The metallic gates were rustic and the fortress itself looked worn-down.

"This is where Voldemort is hiding?" Mark asked incredulously.

"Fortress Inferous. Believe it or not, this prison once held the most dangerous criminals the Wizarding world has ever known. Originally, it was designed to contain your kind." Keyro stated.

"What?" Mark gasped, looking up at the other in shock.

"Constructed in the Fifth Century A.D. By Hecate herself, or so rumor has it, the fortress was initially designed for the capture and subjugation of Mace-Magi. This is, of course, a lie, as Hecate was felled centuries earlier, but the lie stuck. Who, or what, constructed it-"

"Enough of the history lesson, get to the bloody point." Mark interrupted impatiently.

Keyro raised eyebrow. "The place is designed to hold your kind. While the old runes that kept it functioning centuries ago are no longer to its full potential, it still holds some energy..."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that while you'll be impervious to magic, you won't be able to twist everyone else's magic against them like you are accustomed to." Keyro explained.

"So I'm close to useless." Mark deadpanned.

"Wrong. While you can't assault anyone within through mental thought alone, all you have to do is get close enough to distribute your powers through physical touch, then-"

"They will have no defense?"

"More or less." Keyro nodded.

"How's Keydo?" Mark wondered as they began their approach.

"They're torturing him. Shena wants in to the Eternal Plane. This, we cannot allow." Keyro stated.

"And why not?" Mark wondered.

He was met with an are-you-effing-kidding-me look from Keyro.

"What!" Mark exclaimed indignantly, trying (and failing) to keep his cheeks from going red from embarrassment.

"If Voldemort manages to penetrate the Eternal Plain, he will have the ability to transport himself to anyplace, and where, any when. And, when he does, he will set forth the beginning of the end." Keyro declared bluntly.

"Ah. End of all. Of course." Mark nodded.

Keyro rolled his eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Mark shot him a look. "No." he stated as bluntly as he possibly could. "Let's do this."

* * *

><p>Keydo gave a miserable moan as his body fell back.<p>

"Ready to talk?" Shena demanded.

"You can... Keep... Trying all you want... I won't break..." Keydo croaked, barely able to conjure the strength to speak.

Shena just smiled at him.

"Very well."

Keydo frowned. He didn't like that smile. Then, like fire and ice, a whirlwind of pain descended on him. Cutting and lashing, ripping the skin, burning all.

He screamed.

He screamed, and it was done. Though his body still felt the burn or the mark that had been done to him, no more was distributed- at least, not to his body.

"_Legillemence!_" Voldemort shouted before promptly assaulting the other's mind.

* * *

><p>Keyro almost collapsed. Only Mark kept him from fully falling.<p>

"Did I ever mention how much I hate Voldemort?" Keyro muttered, even as he gripped at his skull. Mark looked at him questionably. "As he won't tell willingly, Voldemort is trying to break down Keydo's mental walls. While they won't fall immediately, my brother is not invincible. Eventually, the Dark Lord will penetrate his mind, and, once he does-"

"Yeah, yeah. Screwed, time travel, end of the world, the usual, blah blah blah. Let's just get this over with." Mark interrupted.

Keyro nodded, "Fine. Do it. Now."

A hand connected with a skull and a chant was spoken.

* * *

><p>The eyes shot open and Voldemort reeled back in shock.<p>

That had been... Odd. He hadn't been expecting that, or all things. He tried again, but, try as he could... He snarled, casting the Cruciatus. The male chained before him cried hoarsely under the curse's influence, but, try as Voldemort could, the mind- he could not... Like it wasn't even there... But how?

"Enough! We need him alive. And sane. He is useless to us otherwise!" Shena snapped at the Dark Lord.

As would be expected, he directed his efforts on her. He turned the stick in his hands towards her, sending her flying. The body slammed against the wall with a force that would leave a normal human a bloody mess of broken bones.

Neville quickly turned on Voldemort but with a wave of his wand Voldemort sent Neville flying with a magical affinity far greater than he had once possessed. Considering how fearsome and powerful he had once been considered, this was some feat.

Shena was lifted off the ground. She could no longer breath as Voldemort raised his wand to her. "No one commands me!" He growled dangerously. A nod, then, he set her down.

Before them, Keydo's head had slumped on his shoulder as he rested, worn out by the excruciating activities he had been subjected to.

"I... Suggest, my Lord, that we leave him for now... And continue later..." Shena chose her words carefully, fearing immediate retaliation.

To her relief, Voldemort nodded in agreement. They left four guards, departing the room. Unknown to them, the eyes opened ever so slightly, just a sliver, as they slipped out.

* * *

><p>Keyro gripped a rose in hand. True, not the best weapon, but, it's not like he had powers in this damn place. He carried a single sword with him as well. The Maya Flower to block magic, the sword to attack.<p>

He doubted the flower would last for long. Enough magical assault and the entire thing would simply fall apart.

The guards looked up.

"What the hell?" one of them stared.

Keyro grinned. One small knife later, a body fell. The other guard glanced down, looked up, then charged. Keyro dodged about, and then grinned as he ended up surrounded by three others.

"Why the hell are you smiling?" one of them demanded.

"No reason." Keyro shrugged as the man was promptly stabbed from behind by Mark. The other two guards, caught by surprise, tried to attack. Mark pulled the knife from the first one's back then flung it with a flick of his wrist, impaling it into the neck of one of the other guards.

The last ended up with his neck snapped as Keyro got the upper hand.

The two exchanged looks.

"Too easy." Mark said.

Keyro just nodded looking up at the fortress. He walked up to the door, pushing it open. Unlocked. Far too easy. The enemy was expecting them. Of course.

"I'll distract them as long as I can. Find Neville, break the enchanted placed on him. Until then, we're royally screwed. Come on!" Keyro called.

Mark nodded, ready to put a plan he personally thought was exceedingly crappy into action.

* * *

><p>"May I ask a question?" Keydo finally spoke up.<p>

The guards turned to stare; having been under the impression the torture Voldemort has subjected him to have left him out cold. The head still hung limp on the body, the eyes remaining firmly closed. You could see the bloody lashes running up and down the body like the marks of a painter on a canvas.

"What?" The guard questioned.

"These traps. I assume they're designed to hold a being of magical blood, am I correct?"

The guards exchanged look. Why was Keydo asking them such obvious questions? It made no sense...

"Of course." One finally decided to answer.

"Tell me..." Keydo began, his head lifting slowly. His eyes opened and he cocked his head to the side, looking around at the curiously. "What good are they against a Daemon?"

Then, before they could respond, the eyes flashed black, and 'Keydo' grinned at them. Suddenly, he yanked on one of the chains, hard. It broke with a snap. The guard nearest tried to attack. 'Keydo' turned, grabbing the man by the throat. Energy beat from one to the other as Keydo literally drained energy from the man before letting him fall.

Another guard ran up with a hammer, ready to strike. Keydo turned, lifted his hand, letting the energy he syphoned from the first to shoot the second. He fell back as a flash struck him, sending him flying backwards.

* * *

><p>Mark made his path through the fortress. He swore this place was designed to me some sort of maze...<p>

Luckily, he didn't trigger any of the magical traps set around all over the place, because, physically, he couldn't. After all, he was practically dead as far as the magic around him was concerned. An emptiness were that the magic around him could not breech, no matter how much it tried.

Trained in the arts of stealth, he managed to slip about unseen. Then, he heard a bang.

Keyro, it seemed, was keeping busy on his 'distraction.'

True to his word, on the other side of the fortress, Keyro cut down yet another 'guard'. As far as he was concerned, these people were close to useless, something he was sure Shena and Voldemort were aware of. They weren't here to kill. Only to slow him down.

He turned, swinging the Maya Flower at three more. Power bled from the device, striking them all down.

Clap. Clap, clap, clap...

Keyro spun around. Voldemort himself stood before him, clad in dark robes. A ring glistened on his finger, shining brightly. The Dark Lord smiled at him, His fingers locked together, the wand sticking out just under the hem of the sleeve. Dark red eyes shinning malevolently, shaped like the slits of a snake. His face was pale, grey, colorless. This, however, was not the most peculiar thing about him. The most peculiar was his nose. It appeared as if his parents, at birth, had taken the 'I've got your nose' game just a step too far and ended up taking the entire thing off altogether.

"Tom." Keyro greeted.

Voldemort smiled. Then, he let his wand slide into his grip, and he fired curse. Keyro lifted the rose and it absorbed the blast. Barely, but it did the job. Keyro fell back, grinned, then pulled his hood over his head. And then, he was gone.

"Accio!" Voldemort called, but the cloak did not come. He smiled, flicking his wand at the doors, causing them all to shut. "So... You have foolishly brought me one of the Hallows..." Voldemort commented, walking about the room slowly. There were pillars erected on either side of him, reaching up to the roof high above, lining the sides of the central hall.

"I'm going to kill you." Keyro promised from the shadows.

"Foolish child. Do you truly believe you can defeat me? _Me, _the greatest wizard of all time!" Voldemort snarled, turning, shooting out a blasting curse. Keyro barely managed to lift the rose to absorb it before dodging around as Voldemort's attacks hit, over and over, melting the ground. He tossed a knife, which was quickly deflected before Voldemort advanced...

* * *

><p>Mark crawled his way through the ventilation system. He gave a kick, breaking his way out of the metal shaft. He closed his eyes. The demon. He could feel it, close. Then, he frowned. He could also feel Voldemort. He could feel it... And it scared him. That much power? He seemed more like an atomic weapon than a person at this point. That kind of energy... Not natural.<p>

He ran towards the wall, placed his hand on the enchanted 'door'. It was more like a wall that was designed to slide open at a magical touch. He, however, used what was left of his abilities to break the entire thing down. He rushed into the main torture chamber. There, Keydo stood, desperately trying to fight of the guards. He was outnumbered. Outnumbered, and injured.

"Hiyah!" Mark cried. His call caused attention to turn to him as he tossed two daggers. Two fell. He ran in. One charged at him, but Mark lifted his hand. The man stopped short as Mark hit him with his power.

"Not... Human..." he managed before Mark ripped the blade from his hands and stabbed him with it.

Keydo turned and managed to get his hand around another guards throat, sucking the energy from him as Mark slayed the last. Then, he turned, and couldn't help but feel disgust as he saw what Keydo was doing. The body collapsed to the ground and Keydo sighed, feeling energy filling him, healing slowly at the wounds. He turned.

"Took you long enough." he said in greeting.

Mark rolled his eyes, pulled off the extra shirt he was wearing and tossed it over. "Big fortress." he reminded the other.

"And Keydo?" Keydo asked as he put on the shirt.

"Somewhere on the other side of this damn place creating a diversion."

"Do they suspect?"

"The body swap you and your brother pulled? I don't think so. Not yet, anyways. Otherwise, they'd likely be down here instead."

Keyro nodded, picking up a blade of the ground. It had just a hint of blood on it. He gripped it tight, then looked up. "We need to find Longbottom and break the enchantment. Come on, we haven't much time."


	8. Rescue Part 2

Keydo dodged another blast.

"You cannot run forever." the voice of the Dark Lord echoed the walls.

"That," Keydo spat, turning and throwing out a ninja star. Of course, it was deflected. "Is not my intention..."

Voldemort smiled as he walked calmly up and down the corridor they were locked in. Suddenly, he spun around and shot a pillar. It exploded in a cascading rain of broken stones. Keydo had to roll on the ground to avoid it, and the flurry of movement- that was all Voldemort needed.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _ and, the killing curse stuck head on...

And was _absorbed _by the cloak.

Voldemort began to laugh as he saw this. Keydo stood to full height, and let the Indivisibility cloak of legends unmask his face as he glared at the dark mage before him.

"I see... You have learned the secrets of the cloak, yes? Quiet useful, when wielded by the right hands. Now, give it to me!" Voldemort commanded, putting as much will force into it as he could.

"Your little Jedi mind tricks won't work on me." Keydo stated calmly.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow at the word 'Jedi', having absolutely no idea what a Jedi was, but he tossed it aside quickly. It was of no importance.

"If you will not give me the cloak... Then you will die." Voldemort stated, before using his wand to levitate the ruble around them, tossing it all at the human who barely had the agility to dodge it all. Had it not been for the canny ability to become unseeadble to the naked eye, he knew he'd already be dead.

Keydo could not defeat Voldemort, even with his powers at hand, but he knew he didn't need to. All he had to do was hold of the Dark Lord long enough, just long enough, for his brother and the Mace-Magi to reach Longbottom.

The problem was, he wasn't sure how much longer he would last...

* * *

><p>"Can you sense him?" Keyro demanded even as they stormed about the place.<p>

"Everything... And I mean _everything _in this place... Is drowned out by the power level Voldemort is radiating. I was under the impression this trap was meant to keep your kind from using their abilities?" Mark said as they continued their march through the fortress.

There was practically no opposition. The both of them knew better than to take this as a good sign, as some random bout of luck. No, it was ominous, how empty the fortress seemed to be.

Suddenly, Mark felt a sharp pang striking at his skull, and nearly fell over.

"Mark?" Keyro's voice was touched with just a drop of concern, but it was heard.

"This way!" was all the other gave him before he began to run. Keyro barely caught himself from yelling out after him before he too began the wild charge.

They turned a few corners, ran down a few halls, until, at last, they reached their destination. One last doorway found them on a catwalk of sorts, glancing down at the image before them. Mark, still in a daze, was leaning over it, glancing down in a fashion that would quickly lead to him being spotted by the enemy.

Keyro arrived and pulled him back, nearly resulting in Mark, by instinct alone, stabbing him through the throat. Keyro motioned for silence and both knelt, looking down.

"I'm scared..." a voice drifted from beneath them.

"There is no need to be, child... All will be alright, soon." Shena soothed.

Keyro glanced down and cursed.

Several of the guards were lined up, wall to wall along a long narrow room. Torches hung high, the ground was covered in engravings, and at the end stood the sorceress herself. There was a large marble basin behind her, large enough to hold a man. It was full of a thick white fog, keeping the contents invisible.

"We have to go." Keyro hissed at Mark, but the other waved him off.

Keyro sighed. He knew what was happening next.

The guards stood at selective spots, holding daggers in their hands.

Then, Shena began to chant as she stood before the alter. It was not Latin, it was not any human language in which she spoke. It was a language of old, so ancient those who had created it were now long forgotten.

"Ashee ni liraakan sune, nuum shoulukan! Aterame! Aterame! Jou nim su, ni la ma! Aterame, deis trainiknos,_ aterame!_" Fallen one of old, here my cry. Rise! Rise! From the ashes, here me! Rise, by sacrifice of blood, _rise!_

As Shena finished her chant, each of the guards lifted up the daggers in hands, then plunged it into their own bodies. There was a flash as the light left their eyes, a burning in each before the bodies collapsed haphazardly onto the ground. Their blood seeped into the ground, through small channels.

Shena smiled as the blood approached the alter. There was another flash of light, this one blinding, and a figure was rising from the fog...

"Come on!" Keyro pulled on Mark. Finally, the Mace-Magi seemed to see reason, standing with them. Both stood, and turned... Staring straight into the face of a woman, who smiled at them. The hair was dark, the color of freshly fallen ash. Her eyes were hollow and empty. She smiled at them.

Mark was unconcerned.

Keyro was having an _oh shit _moment.

"It's rude to spy." the woman said simply with a smile as she advanced.

Mark lifted his hand to her, completely forgetting how that would not work properly in this place. The next thing both males knew, they were being flung, hard, of the catwalk.

Only years of training kept them from breaking as they hit the ground. Still, the soft landing- created by dead bodies, no less- kept them from substaining serious injury.

Shena turned around to face them as the two males stood. She beamed, before looking to the other female, who had leaped down after them. "Finish them." Shena commanded.

The other woman nodded, the emotionless mask still on as Shena pulled a body from the fog. Male. She draped a cloth around him as she picked up the far too skinny body.

"Stop her!" Keryo hissed as he charged... Resulting in the second woman shooting out magic at him, causing Keyro to freeze in mid step, and fall to the floor, a frozen statue.

"Keyro!" Mark exclaimed, before he turned back to the raven haired woman. She tried the same on him, but she might as well have thrown snow at him for all the good it did. "Yeah Your little tricks? They don't work on me." Mark stated smugly as he wiped of the white now perched on his shoulder, taking absolutely no notice as the sorceress made her escape.

The woman snarled, then advanced. She pulled a pair of sai from her side, and, with inhuman speed, she was soon upon him. It was a dance of sorts. She swung, he swung. He cut, she cut. Mark sidestepped the girl and attempted to stab.

She grabbed his hand and twisted it. It took all his strength to keep her from impaling him.

"Didn't mommy ever teach you that it's not okay to hit the pretty ladies?" the woman shook her head at him in obvious disappointment.

"You're no girl!" Mark snapped, before managing to slap her across the face. Her head reeled back from the blow, and, when she looked back, she was smiling.

"Guess not."

One kick later found Mark flying through the air. He landed on his hand and managed to flip himself upright just as a sai went flying past his head. She charged again, but, this time, he was quicker. He was faster, and, with a touch at her abdomen, he let his power loose.

The woman have a hollow shout as his power filled her.

Just as he suspected.

That wouldn't have worked on a human.

Mark took opportunity to take his dagger, and he impaled it deep into her neck. The woman gasped and spluttered, taking a few steps back, dropping the sai.

Then, she did what Mark had never expected.

She lifted up her hand, and pulled out the bloody dagger, glancing down at it before looking up at his shocked expression. She let the blade drop with a clang on the stone floor. She grabbed him, lifting him up like he was nothing before he could stop her. Her face up close to hiss, she growled. "You can't kill what's already dead..."

Next thing Mark knew, he was thrown, hard. He struck the wall, sliding down, groaning in pain. The woman snarled and sped at him like a wild rhinoceros, except she had the grace of walk of a lioness.

Mark dodged about and fought back with all he had.

The magic he could handle.

The odd zombie enhanced super strength, which, in Mark's opinion, was totally cheating? There was_ no _defense against that, which meant all she needed to do was get him in a good headlock before the crunching and deafening _snap. _

She chased after him.

Mark turned and aimed a good kick at her skull.

It stuck and the head swung back. Had she been alive, it would have killed her. But, as she had already stated, you can't kill what's already dead.

Mark rolled on the ground, picked up one of the long daggers the guards had used to sacrifice themselves, and turned just as the zombie was upon him... And cut clean, right through her throat. The head lolled a bit before it fell of the body, rolling its bloody path away on the ground as the body itself collapsed to the ground in a giant heap.

Mark sighed as he tuned and looked back at the frozen Keyro. A few steps later, he knelt before the other, and freed him of the icy prison. Keyro gasped, looked up, and muttered a quick thanks. Mark nodded, and helped him up.

"Hila, did you kill her?" were the first words from Keyro's lips

"You mean ash-head? Decapitated." Mark confirmed. Keyro simply nodded to this.

"Come on, we have to find Longbottom. Things are getting very, _very _out of hands back in the Eternal Plane." Keyro said.

"How so?" Mark frowned.

"Long sto-"

Crack. Crunch. Twist.

Both males froze.

"After you chopped of the head... Did you, a, stab the heart, b, burn the body, or c, stab the brain?" Keyro's voice was a barely contained whisper.

Mark faltered at the last option.

"Stab the brain?" he repeated incredulously.

Hands balled up into little fists like a child throwing a tantrum, Keyro glared at him. "Why do you think people always shoot the freaking zombies in the head in the movies!" he snapped.

"I... You know... Um..." Mark spluttered.

Both males heard another sickening crunch, and turned as the woman was twisting her head back in place. She snapped it back together before turning to look at them over her shoulder.

"You shouldn't have done that." she cooed before she turned. Before, she had looked apathetic, uncaring. For a second, she had even appeared amused.

Now, she was undeniably pissed off.

That, and, last time, her eyes were not a eerily glowing dark blue...

"Hold her off." Keyro snapped.

"What?" Mark turned, but the demon, or daemon, or whatever the hell it was, was gone. Mark cursed under his breath as the woman marched her path over to him. Mark took a dagger in hand, and charged.

He sliced at her and tried to aim for the neck. She grabbed his arm, twisted it, and flung him over her shoulder with force. Mark groaned as he collided with the ground.

The woman snarled, and, net thing he knew, he hand picked him up, one handed, by the throat.

"I'm done playing little miss nice." the dead one hissed as she began to choke the life out of the Mace-Magi.

Then, a knife was stabbed into her back with force, embedding itself deep into the woman's back. She dropped Mark, and, with an annoyed expression, pulled it out and turned to Keyro... Just as he managed to get his own hand around her throat. There was a flash, and the woman's eyes went blue once more. Mark coughed as he stood, and, it took him a few seconds to realize what he was seeing.

Keryo was feeding off her, like he had fed of the guards back in the torture chamber.

He let go, and the woman fell to her knees.

"You can't kill me." she looked up at Keryo through hateful eyes. "I cannot die." she hissed.

"But, I can freeze you..." Keyro countered as he took one of her sai in hand and impaled her with it. The woman gave a gasp as her entire body because a statue of frozen ice. It stayed where it was, knelt there and weak. Keyro panted as he backed off, before collapsing to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Mark asked.

"I just sucked energy from a freaking zombie... So, _no, _I am not alright!" Keyro barked.

"Sheesh, no need to get testy." Mark stated as he helped Keyro to his feet. Keyro rolled his eyes.

"Sooner we get out of here, the better."

"Couldn't agree more." Mark nodded.

* * *

><p>"Come now, this game of hide and seek is quiet useless, you know." Voldemort drawled. "Come... Come face me like a <em>man<em>." Voldemort challenged.

Keydo did not even bother to reply to that one.

Voldemort sighed.

"Very well then, you force my hand." the Dark Lord lamented. Then, he lifted his hand, the one with his family ring locked firmly in place.

Keydo had a brief moment to think _damn it all_ before wind began to gush all around them. Specters began to form out of nothingness, ghosts. Silver light radiated from the skin of the spirits called forth.

Keydo didn't know it, but Voldemort had called forth the spirits of the men Shena had sacrificed...

"Find the human. Kill it." Voldemort ordered.

The ring flashed, and the spirits knelt, taking in the command.

The next thing Keydo knew, he was dueling with ghosts, which, in all honestly, was not his idea of a good time. Voldemort turned to watch as Keydo was flung, but the other kept firm hold of the cloak as he attempted to right back against the spirits.

Keydo pulled out a knife made of pure iron, and slashed at one ghost. It disappeared with a scream. Voldemort seethed. Spirits gave out an elector-magnetic force field around themselves whenever they manifested. Pure Iron was one of the few substances that could disturb that force field, causing them to dissipate for a short while.

But, no matter.

Keydo would die, and soon, the cloak of Invisibility would be Voldemort's, and Voldemort's alone. Two Hallows, all to his own. The Dark Lord chuckled evilly at the thought.

* * *

><p>Mark closed his eyes.<p>

"This way!" he guided.

"I hope you know what you're doing!" Keyro snapped.

"Shut it, demon!"

"Daemon!"

"Does it look like I give a damn? Besides, it's just a letter difference!" Mark countered.

"Yes, well, I like my childish moments. I rarely have them." Keyro replied.

"You're a really odd fellow, you know that?"

"And you're a Mace-Magi working with a creature right out of Hell." Keyro reminded him.

"Keep that up, and I just might change my mind about helping your ass."

"Right. And let the flow of the universe become broken." Keyro nodded.

"Prick."

"Bitch."

"Demon."

"Bastard."

Both continued on in their tirade of insults, before, at last, looking at one another, and laughing. Suddenly, Keyro stopped, his eyes wide.

"What?" Mark said in concern.

"We're actually getting along." Keyro deadpanned.

Both males exchanged looks then shuddered violently as they looked away from one another.

"We really need to get out of here..." Mark stated.

"Agreed." Keyro shivered.

They broke through a pair of wooden doors onto the great stone bridge that traversed the entire infrastructure of the fortress.

And, there he was...

Back turned to them, hands crossed behind his back.

They walked towards him slowly, weary.

Then, Neville Longbottom turned to face them. His eyes showed no recognition. In fact, he looked like he was sleep walking. Which, technically, he was. Neville was locked in a drugged state at the moment, practically trapped within his own skull. Which was very, very bad.

A wand slipped into a hand.

"You might as well stand down. That thing won't work on me." Mark informed the other.

Neville made no note that he had been addressed. Instead, he brandished the wand, and a blade of pure green ignited from the end. The other two stared.

"What is this, Star Wars?" Mark stated, looking to Keyro. The other, however, was looking at the blade with a slight touch of fear.

"What color is that blade..." Keyro whispered.

Mark stared. "What, are you color blind? It's green." Mark said.

"Avada Kedavra green?" Keyro suggested.

Mark's eyes went wide as he turned back to look at the blade, and he cursed. There were many things he could block against. Killing Curse was up on the list of magic things that could actually harm him, which meant they were in very, very deep trouble now...

"You've got to be kidding me! I can't block against that!"

Longbottom barred his teeth at them before he began to advance. The cursed glowing blade of magical energy cut at the ground as he came towards them.

"Potter's wand!" Keyro exclaimed.

"What about it!" Mark snapped even as they began to take steps backwards. Neville was in no hurry. In fact, he seemed to want to take his time with them, which made him all the more frightening.

"Give it to me! I might be able to make a blade like... Well. That!" Keyro pointed.

"You aren't a wizard!"

"I still have some left over power from zombie-girl. That's all I need! Just give me the damn wand!" Keyro demanded.

Mark sighed, pulled out the wand, and tossed it to the other.

"Good, now. Hold him off."

"Wait, what?"

But, Keyro had done the invisibility act. Again. Mark seethed, before being forced to jump back as the blade of death nearly chopped him in two.


	9. Rescue Part 3

A/N; He is _not _dead. Just throwing that out there before you all come attempting to hunt my ass down!

* * *

><p><strong>Rescue- Part 3<strong>

Keydo was tossed back.

The iron knife lay feet away from him.

Voldemort picked it up, twirled it around in his fingers, before lifting his wand. One quick spell later, Keydo's only weapon against the spirits was a burning pile of goo on the floor. The Dark Lord looked up and smiled as he witnessed two of the spirits holding Keydo bound.

Keydo snarled and tried fighting back, but, he was trapped.

Voldemort knelt, picking up the cloak.

"I must thank you." Voldemort congratulated, looking Keydo in the eyes. "For bringing this to me."

"Go play with your none existent boy parts." Keydo snarked.

"Manners." Voldemort shook his head in exasperation as he lifted his wand. The human have a hollow scream as his body felt as if it were being dipped in acid. Voldemort beamed. And let the human suffer under the curse for three full minutes before he lifted it. Watching the human trash back and forth, giving hollow shouts, filled with an endless tirade of pain- nothing else could please the Dark Lord more. "You will tell me how to penetrate the Eternal Plane, boy." Voldemort informed the other, his voice a cold steel now that he had Keydo in his grips.

"I still have a few tricks up my sleeve!" Keydo declared. Suddenly, the ghosts released him as if burned.

Voldemort looked on, not in shock, but genuine curiosity as Keydo fished out the Maya Flower from his robes, and used the thing like a blade. The phantoms gave out screams as Keydo sliced them with the flower, watching as they went up in a giant pile of flames.

Voldemort shot out another curse.

Keydo turned and deflected it with the flower.

Voldemort lifted his wand, concentrating. Pure undiluted energy sprang forth from it. The wind around shifted and twisted with the force Voldemort was putting into the attack. The ground quaked, and dust fell from the ceiling as all light was sucked from the place.

It was blinding. Too bright. Too bright, and too powerful...

Keydo lifted the flower in defense, even as he shielded his eyes...

There was the residual sound of a blast.

Keydo was knocked off his feet. He rolled on the ground, knelt up, coughing. Where Voldemort's curse had struck, the ground was covered in burns. Burns etched deep and dark into the ground. And Keydo watched as the Maya flower floated slowly to the ground. He tried to catch it, and the entire thing disintegrated before his fingers could even latch on to the precious object.

"I am _done _playing games." Voldemort spoke, his voice echoing his boredom. Keydo was lifted of the ground, and slammed against the wall. He was powerless.

"Ah. You've caught him. Good. There is one more on the premises." a voice entered the room.

Keydo could not even crane his neck to the side to see due to the force of Voldemort's magic, holding him in place, but he knew who that voice belonged to.

Shena.

She entered into his vision, carrying a body. She laid it on the ground, and looked up at Voldemort.

"Which one is this?" he demanded.

"When he lived, he was known as Ken Kyle. He was a deadly warrior in his time. Eventually, he was felled in battle. It took several to bring him to his knees. Before that, he was revered as an agent of Death itself. He blasted apart entire buildings through sheer will alone. He-"

"Enough. Silence." Voldemort commanded, and Shena obeyed.

Keydo barely contained a smirk.

He knew Shena. He also knew she was no bodies bitch. If Voldemort kept up this little game of his, he'd have a rouge sorceress after his head in no time. Not just that, but this was Shena. She was patient, and thorough. She would wait until the time was right, then, she would strike, and she would strike hard. Of course, this was Voldemort they were dealing with, a man expecting betrayal at every turn, so Keydo himself doubted how much damage Shena could really inflict once she finally got fed up with the way Voldemort was treating her.

Voldemort lifted his hand, the one with the ring, and let power seep through him.

Keydo frowned.

What the hell were they doing?

* * *

><p>Mark dodged the cursed beam of energy, again and again. He rolled over on the ground, turned, and, using his powers, held back the blade as Neville brought it down on him.<p>

It took all his efforts to hold it back, nearly breaking him, but, in the end, he managed it. Sweat fell from his face onto the ground, and his clothing was quickly becoming soaked in perspiration.

He growled out in agony as he gave a great push. His muscles screamed in protest, but he succeeded as he pushed the wizard back. Longbottom twirled around, held the blade in a stance, and attacked.

Mark dodged, pulled out his own daggers, and began fighting back.

That's when he noticed Keyro, on the sidelines...

"Work... You... Bloody... Thing... Work!" Keyro was holding Potter's wand... And waving it around like a madman as he attempted to get a blade similar to Longbottom's to extend from it. He hit the edge of the stone bridge a couple of times in annoyance as the wand refused to do his bidding.

It was then that Mark realized that he really was screwed this time...

Neville roared- the most emotion he had shown so far- as he swung viciously.

Mark barely managed to drop to the ground as the blade extended and lashed out. It stuck the stone around them and destroyed it. Mark rolled on the ground, and rose, glaring at the wizard. If he kept this up, the entire bridge would collapse on them. Taking a stance, Mark made a suicide run at Longbottom.

Neville sidestepped all of Mark's attacks, delivering some of his own. Both parties swung around in full circle, but the green blade... It's energy was to great, the burning too strong. He was quickly disarmed, and, next thing he knew, the blade struck his knee and Mark was spinning through the air before landing down on the stone floor. He groaned loudly and looked up into the face of death as the blade came down upon him...

* * *

><p>The room was suddenly cold. Very, very cold. Ice began forming around them from the air alone. The windows, high above, shattered, the glass falling down to the ground as if in slow motion. Everything seemed to slow down, except Voldemort himself. Keydo struggled against the invisible bonds, but it was useless. He watched as darkness began to seep from the ground. Dark smoke, billowing and evil looking. It manifested above the body Shena had deposited on the ground, taking the shape of a small blue orb of energy.<p>

A soul.

Voldemort was using the ring to summon souls from beyond the grave.

This was worse than they could have possible imagined...

The soul shot into the mouth of the man, and he gasped, eyes shooting open. They glowed for a second with blue light before said light died. Then, the head fell back into the sweet abyss of dreams.

"Now... What have we here?" Shena turned to glance at Keydo, who was still trapped up against the wall. "Keyro, Keyro, Keyro..." Shena shook her head in disappointment. Keydo felt a small ounce of hope at the name. They still weren't aware of the body swap. Which meant they still had an advantage. "Such a disappointment. I had put much more faith in your abilities. But, you have failed them all." She sighed at him as he caressed his cheek.

Keydo snarled.

The next thing he knew, he was being pulled.

Slammed into a kneeling position with two spirits holding him there.

This time, there was no magic flower to save him. This time, he really was screwed...

That's when the torture started. Again.

* * *

><p>The blade came down like a great fury of green flame, and Mark closed his eyes. True, he was not ready to die. He was not ready to move on. But, if now was his time, if this was to be his last breath, then he accepted it. He accepted it, because he knew there was no preventing it. Death was a natural part of life. It only stood to reason that he would die, here, trying to save the freaking world... By working with a demon...<p>

Then, without any warning whatsoever, there was a flash of red to match the green. The blade, Avada Kedavra green, collided with the bright light of a blade shimmering with a burning color of flesh and blood.

Longbottom looked up into the eyes of Keyro.

Keyro spoke no words. He merely spun his own wand-blade in hand, forcing Longbottom to retreat. Mark looked up in shock as Keyro swung. Green collided with red in a grand shower of sparks.

Mark rolled on the ground and stood, watching as what he could only describe as a lightsaber duel took place before him. Keyro spun back and held his blade offensively in a reverse grip.

"Come on, Yoda!" he snapped.

Mark blinked.

"Yoda? _Seriously?_"

"Shut..." Keyro began as he and Longbottom began swirling and triwling round one another in massive arcs, each trying to strike at the other, "Up!" Keyro concluded as he deflected a blow and tried to land one of his own.

Mark leaned back, and simply enjoyed the show. His muscles, already strained, protested. He groaned a bit, and tried to force himself to relax. Blocking a killing curse through mental though alone had left him very, very drained. Mark was far better at instinctual things than things were he had to concentrate as much as he had now. And, right now, his skull was screaming it's utter annoyance at him, even as he watched the flurry of red and green play out before him.

Longbottom's attacks, Mark noted, were incredibly predictable. He simply repeated the same strikes, over and over. Keyro, on the other hand, who actually had a mind of his own at the moment, was far more difficult to predict as he swung and dodged, cut and slashed, kicked and punched.

Then, Mark noticed something else, and, ignoring his enraged and burning body, he rose to full height.

Keyro's blade.

The energy was fading...

The blade would not hold for much longer.

So, as tired and beat as Mark was, he joined the fray.

Longbottom growled as he spun, trying to dodge blows coming from both sides. Then, Longbottom did what neither could have anticipated, because it wasn't something he had done before, and both were under the impression he was following a distinctly set pattern.

He leaped in the air, spun there in place using his magic, and kicked Keyro in the face. Keyro fell back and nearly dropped the wand in his grip and looked up as Neville turned to Mark. He sliced and Mark screamed as the blade pierced his arm. Mark dropped like a deadweight.

Neville lifted his blade to behead the other when a beam of bright red was _impaled _right through his chest.

"NO!" Mark shouted out in shock.

Neville gasped, his eyes going wide. The wand slipped from his grip, falling with a clatter. The blade that had been ignited for so long faded, once more without light. There was a flash of red, and the blade was gone, and Longbottom fell...


	10. Rescue Part 4

A/N; Next part. It looks like there will be one more, before the whole rescue thing is finished.

And no, Neville is not dead. I'm evil, but I'm not that evil.

Anyways, on with the story.

* * *

><p><strong>Rescue- Part 4<strong>

"If you will not tell us how to penetrate the plane... We will be forced to take drastic measures." Shena stated.

"Bite me." Keydo refused to relent.

She grabbed him by the chin, leaning in close as she eyed him with a keen dislike.

"I will send your ass back to Hell were it belongs. Is that what you want, child?"

"Hell's nice. Fire. Brimstone. Streets paved in flesh and bone. Bad ass, if you ask me." Keydo shrugged nonchalantly at the threat.

Shena growled at him before placing her hand at his chest. He have a hollow shout as his body arched at the sudden pain she was inflicting magically.

She was literally killing him. Her magic was causing his flesh to burn, to reach the edge of death, each and every cell, before the healing commenced. Shena would torture and heal, all at once, creating an endless cycle of agony. One could get lost in it, many had gotten lost in it, many had been driven into the bouts of insanity by it.

Even as it continued, Keydo could feel as his muscles began to cramp up, all over hid body, leaving him in a withered and debilitated state. It hurt. Hurt like hell, and he honestly wasn't sure how much longer he'd last...

"Enough. If you cannot break the demon, then let me handle the creature." Voldemort spoke.

Shena shot him a look, but knew better than to even dare respond. She just nodded, backing away.

"Someone's a well trained bitch." Keydo smiled at her.

She merely rolled her eyes at the comment, turning away as if Keydo was not even worth the interest of looking at.

"You will tell us." Voldemort stated.

"Or what? I tell you, I die. I don't tell you, I die. You big bad super villain guys really aren't that good in the bargaining department, you know." Keydo countered.

"Excorcise him." Voldemort commanded.

Shena smiled and turned.

Keydo sighed.

Well.

There goes his cover... Unless he could put on a good show, that is. Then again, sooner or later, both Shena and Voldemort were bound to notice his eyes weren't going pitch black.

Shena began the chant, and Keydo tossed his head back dramatically, making sure to keep his eyes firmly shut, and pretended to scream.

All of a sudden, something caught Voldemort's eyes in the distance. Faint, a flash of light- two flashes of light. Curious, the Dark Lord turned to gaze out one of the shattered windows...

At what appeared to be a lightsaber duel...

He watched as the green light died, before the red light flashed with blinding light. Voldemort narrowed his eyes and turned to look back at Keydo. He marched straight up to the other, even as Shena continued the chant, and, with his palm, forced the other to look at him with pale _human _eyes...

Cover blown.

* * *

><p>Mark stared in utter horror as the blood-red blade pierced the heart of Neville Longbottom. There was a fierce flash of light, filling the other from the inside out before Longbottom collapsed to the ground in a whimpering heap.<p>

There was the soft sound of wood colliding with stone as Keyro dropped Potter's wand. Mark stared up at the other. Keyro was panting, his brow covered in sweat, looking tired.

"You killed him!" Mark shrieked.

"No..." Keyro said lethargically as he flipped Longbottom onto his back, before looking up. "The blade I used was made out of a stunning spell. They're red, remember? He's only unconscious."

This did nothing to relent Mark's glare and his hand quickly moved to the neck. He sighed in relief when he found what he was looking for- a living, beating pulse.

Keyro ripped open Longbottom's robes, and Mark could not help but stare.

"What the hell is that thing."

It didn't even sound like a question. There was too much shock and disbelief behind it, because that, what he was looking at- it could not _possible _be real. It just seemed... Well. Odd. And downright strange. Yet, the evidence was there, laid out before him, staring right at him.

The metal device literally embedded into Longbottom's chest whirled a bit as the outer ring spun.

"That... Is what all the trouble's been about." Keyro touched the strange object. In the center there was a clear sphere. Within the sphere was a thick black liquid, bubbly and churning.

"Can you get it out?" Mark asked, looking up.

"It should pop out by itself once we break the spell." Keyro said before looking up. "Now, this is where things get... Tricky. Why I needed you here. You're going to need to use your powers. On Neville, to break the anti-magical force-field around this place." Keyro said.

"That could kill him!" Mark snapped.

"Well, no plan is fool proof, now, is it?" Keyro countered.

Mark merely stared incredulously.

Keyro stared back with blank expression.

Mark sighed, pressed a hand to the chest, and concentrated, hard.

* * *

><p>"Human." Voldemort whispered.<p>

Shena had stopped whispering, her eyes wide.

"Body swap." Keydo grinned at them. "They work wonders, you know."

Voldemort growled at him in fury, tossing him aside. The body fell on the ground, and Keydo groaned, his body screaming in protest at being moved so quickly and rapidly after all the torture.

"Kill him. _Now._" he commanded even as he turned, fuming. Voldemort needed to kill something, and he needed to do it now. The fury was boiling him a hundred times over. He sincerely needed to make someone scream.

Shena nodded, taking a dagger in hand and advancing.

Neither noticed the flash of light above on the bridge.

But Keydo did. Or, better yet, he felt it. Felt the effect as a veil was lifted off him...

Shena knelt, turning him over, completely caught unaware as the hand met with her throat.

Soon, her powers were being drained. Keydo smiled at her as he tossed her back. The sorceress spun a little, barely catching her balance. "Power's back!" Keydo declared smugly.

Voldemort spun around at the words. Conjuring up several spikes, he shot them all at Keydo.

Keydo smiled, before dodging one, spinning, and, suddenly, there were two of him.

Voldemort frowned.

The Keydo's beamed at him, before they two split in two... Again. And again. And again.

Soon, Voldemort and Shena were sorrounded.

"You know... I really see why you like this power now." the Keydo's informed Shena.

Voldemort turned and glared at Shena for this, his mind quickly putting the pieces together. His gaze held promise of suffering to come, much, much suffering. She nearly rolled her eyes in response. Really? Torturing a masochist like her? Not a very effective plot, considering all the agony she'd already experienced, and, in a demented delirium, actually enjoyed.

* * *

><p>There was a powerful flash and a wave of magic passed over them. A veil was lifted, and, finally, everything was clear. They could see. The force field around Fortress Inferous was shattered into a million little pieces.<p>

Mark gasped slightly as he fell back, closing his eyes.

Keyro checked for a pulse he wasn't sure existed.

"Alive... But barely." he stated.

"Good... Let's... Let's get out of here..." Mark panted.

"One last step remains." Keyro shook his head.

"One last- are you serious? No. He _can't. _We try anything else, Neville _died._" Mark emphasized his point.

"We don't, the second he wakes up, he will kill not just me, not just you, but every living thing in sight! I may have... Paralyzed him, but I've left him... Unstable." Keyro confessed.

"Unstable?" Mark's whisper seemed on the edge of kicking and screaming.

"The damn thing is already designed to make him go insane. I damaged it when I stabbed him. We have to break him free, or else... Well, you get the idea."

"_And how the hell are we suppose to do that!" _

"Not us. Potter."

"What?"

"He and I... I convinced him to perform a powerful charm on the both of us. It will switch our spirits just long enough for him to get through to this idiot here." Keyro motioned to Neville.

"You can't do it?" Mark frowned.

"I met Longbottom _once. _It made out first meeting look like a little girl's tea party with all her fluffy little stuffed teddy bears." Keyro said bluntly. Mark though that over for a few seconds. Considering that he and Keyro had flung knives at each other on their first encounter, that must have been one hell of a first meeting... "The effect is temporary, but... When I come out, I may not be me. Do you understand?"

"Transparently." was the reply.

Keyro nodded once, closed his eyes, and touched the forehead.

It was time.

* * *

><p>Voldemort and Shena continued to cut down the clones. Shena turned and slit a neck, the entire thing disintegrating before her.<p>

Voldemort shot out curse after curse, blasting one after another after another.

The Keydo's, however, seemed endless.

One managed to get a good kick right at the Dark Lord's noseless face before he managed to strike the damn thing down. Before he knew it, he was swept of his feet by a good sweeping kick.

Voldemort stumbled, but he did not fall.

Instead, he roared out in rage and let raw power radiate from him, blasting away all the clones until their essence all formed back into a single original.

"Well... That hurt like a bitch..." Keydo panted as he backed up a bit.

The dark wizard and the sorceress advanced on him, their eyes declaring the fury they both felt.

Keydo lifted his hand and shot out a sphere of silver energy. Shena was forced to dodge, but Voldemort merely waved the thing off, making the sphere shoot of against yet another pillar, blowing a good chunk of the side.

It was a wonder the room was still standing...

Keydo bent his knees, and charged. He charged at the Dark Lord himself, at Voldemort, at the single most powerful entity on the entire planet at the moment. Voldemort barred his teeth, brandishing his wooden stick of death. Voldemort swung and let loose a pulse wave.

Keydo, on the other hand, leaped in the air, spinning above Voldemort's head. Voldemort turned as the other landed behind him, and Keydo turned with a kick aimed at the skull. Voldemort's magic protected him from the blow and Keydo was knocked off his feet before crashing down hard on the ground.

"Enough of these games." Voldemort used his wand to levitate the other once more, when Keydo began to laugh. Laugh maniacally, like a mad man. All sense of sanity was lost as Keydo continued his insane chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Shena demanded. Voldemort's eyes began to narrow in suspicion even as he held the man firmly in place.

"Nothing really. Just standing here." a voice called.

Both turned in shock at a grinning Keydo, standing next to the hexagon shaped exit. "Adios." he stated simply, stepping back and placing his hand on the sigil resting there on the wall, letting Shena's magic loose. Shena herself snarled and tossed a dagger... Which impaled deep into the the stone of the 'door' that was created there.

Voldemort roared in fury and turned just in time to see the clone smirking at him before disintegrating just like the rest.

* * *

><p>Everything was a swirl.<p>

One second, Harry- or Bolt- or older Harry, whatever you want to call him, found himself sitting in the hall listening in as the latest chapter was finishing up.

Next, he was being twisted through time and space itself.

Not his body, but his essence.

On the bright side, he'd been expecting it. On the other hand, it was more uncomfortable that floo travel and apparation combined. There were simply no words to describe the feeling. He'd say he was being squeezed through a straw, but that didn't cut it. He was literally being ripped out of his own body, and being carted away to another. On the way, he passed Keyro. The other had the audacity to _wave _at him, which, at the very moment, made Harry's blood boil under his skin. But, that might have more to do with it literally feeling like he was being boiled alive at the moment.

The next second, he had landed. He stumbled a bit on his feet, and looked around in confusion. He glanced down at himself, and was glad to find he was wearing clothes, the same robes he had been wearing in the Great Hall.

"Harry!" a voice called cheerfully.

Harry looked up to see Neville coming towards him, a beaming smile on his face.

"Come on, get up. You know, most people call before they make unannounced visits." Neville scolded as he helped Harry to his feet, dusting him off.

"Neville- what- where are we?" Harry asked.

"He's a bit slow today, isn't he?" a female voice spoke up. Harry turned and looked at a woman he was sure he had never seen before. She, along with an old man, were sitting hand in hand at a table, along with Hannah, Justin, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna. The two elders had graying hair, both covered in the thousand crinkles of wrinkles which lined their faces. The old man was balding and had a predominant belly. The old woman was thinner, and had short hair that didn't go past her shoulders.

"Who's that?" Harry pointed rather rudely, forgetting his manners in his confusion.

"Those are my parents Harry, don't you remember?" Neville stared at Harry. "And what the roses is that thing on your head?" Neville pointed.

"What thing?" Harry said, confused.

Neville hauled Harry over to a mirror, and pointed again. "That thing."

He was pointing at Harry's scar.

"Neville, I've had that thing since before we even met..." Harry told the other. He new this was a fantasy world, and he'd been wondering for a while what it would be like. It became apparent very quickly. No Voldemort, Neville's parents still among the living, the works.

Neville raised a skeptical eyebrow at him and turned Harry over to face the others.

"Have any of you ever seen this thing on his head?" he pointed at Harry's scar.

They all shook their heads.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked in concern.

"I... Uh. Tripped and fell." Harry lied.

"Hmm..." Neville, curiously, touched the scar. He gave a short shout as he reeled his hand away, a burn predominant on his finger.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron gasped.

"You're not Harry!" Ginny decreed.

"Sorry I'm late, every- who the hell are you."

Harry retained a groan as he turned to stare at his counterpart in this mismatched messed up world, who was currently glaring at him with undeterred fury.

"No, no, no, no... No, no!" Neville began to shake.

"Nev-" Harry turned back to his friend.

"Away from him, fiend!"

"Wow!" Harry had to duck as stunners collided where he had once been, Auror and Quidditch training kicking in. Harry quickly stood, drew his wand, and began to twist and turn as he fought of the others, who were exceedingly easy to take down.

"NO! This isn't how everything is suppose to be!" Neville bellowed.

Harry turned back to look at him just as everything began to melt.

"Neville, listen to me, this isn't rea-"

"NO!"

And, with that, the floor disappeared from under Harry's feet.


	11. Rescue Final Part

A/N; The last. And final part. All together, there are over 13,000 words. Along with 31 pages full of text. Most of it(minus a small 2000) written between today and yesterday. The effect of having nothing to do. But, luckily, I actually have something to do tomorrow, so that day shouldn't be as boring.

Anyways, enjoy peoples.

* * *

><p><strong>Rescue-Part 5<strong>

Keydo was running. He sped up and down the place, leaping, running on walls, climbing every which thing. The freedom of being able to use his abilities once more after the confinement of having them retained for so long- it was liberating, it was freedom, independence. And he liked it.

Of course, it came at the price of having arrows shot at him at every which turn, but you can't have everything in life.

He rounded another corner, entering the courtyard. Spotting his targets far above, he began to make his climb, leaving from post to post like some sort of hyper active spider. A few leaps later, he landed gracefully and cat like on the stone bridge. Mark, who was knelt before the sleeping bodies of Keyro and Neville, looked up.

"Dude, what the hell?" Mark snapped as he stood to full height, his face lit in annoyance.

"What?" Keydo, confused, ask.

"I just had to climb all those freaking stairs to get my ass up here, and you just jump? I mean, come on, seriously?" Mark complained.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Keydo waved him off as he walked towards his brother and Longbottom. He glanced down at the two sleeping figures, intrigued. "We need to get them out of here, now." Keydo stated, looking up. "I managed to get Voldemort and Shena trapped in a room. But, with their kind of firepower... It won't last for long, we don't have much- down!" Keydo commanded.

Instinct kicked in as Mark fell to the ground as a sai went flying past his head.

"You froze me. You didn't play very nice, and I'm not a happy girl." a voice growled.

"You again?" Mark groaned as he got up and turned, staring at the face of the ash-haired girl.

"Hila. Long time no see. Out of curiosity, can you still feel the poison I ticked you into drinking?" Keydo said casually as he rose to full height.

"Poison that you- never mind, I don't want to know..." Mark spoke.

The woman snarled at them before giving out an animalic shout. Then, she sprinted at them wildly. Mark swung at her, but she ducked under his arm, grabbed it, and attempted to fling him off the bridge. He was far too trained for that and the only thing she succeeded in accomplishing was getting yet another good kick in the face. She fell back, snapped her neck back in place, and turned.

"Can't die, now can I?"

Then, she leapt at him once more.

* * *

><p>He was floating in darkness.<p>

It reminded Harry distinctly of his time in Dumbledore's pensive, how everything came down in tiny twisters of gray smoke, forming shapes, thing, people, everything around him.

He looked around and recognized the room as the Hogwarts courtyard. The entire thing was in ruins, ruble in every direction, destruction exceedingly apparent. Bodies littered the ground, ruptured veins let rivers of blood flow forming creaks. Above, the sun was covered by the moon in an evident Solar Eclipse, leaving all enshrouded in darkness.

"Not real... Not real... You aren't real, none of this is real... Nightmare, just a nightmare... Dreaming, I'm dreaming..."

Harry turned to the voice and felt his heart shredded in two as he watched. Neville was pressed up against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked back and forth, constant whimpers escaping his lips.

"Neville..." Harry tried.

Neville flinched at the sound of Harry's voice, but still refused to look at him.

"Not real, not real... Just a dream. It was all just a dream. But, it's over now. It's over, and I'm dreaming... I'm dreaming, please let me go. I'm dreaming, _I'm dreaming._" Neville whispered pathetically.

Harry grimaced. What had they done to him? He looked around. He knew once the enchantment on Neville was broken that the other would return to his natural, normal state. He knew Neville would be back to normal once it was lifted, knew that as long as it was in place that it would mess with his mind, make him see things, keep him trapped like a wounded animal.

But, until then, he couldn't help but wince as he witnessed the mental trauma his friend was suffering under.

"Neville, please, look at me..." Harry pleaded s he began to walk slowly towards him. Almost in slow motion, Neville looked up. Fear lit his eyes. "You have to listen to me, alright? Please, Nev. People could _die _if you don't listen to me, and we don't want that, do we?"

"Are you real?" Neville whimpered.

Harry knelt down next to him.

"Yes, Nev. I'm real." Harry said softly.

"No. He isn't. He's here to destroy your world! Look around you, look at this ruin! That's not your friend!" a voice snarled, and Harry froze for a second. It had been years since he had heard that voice, and part of him was scared to turn around and face it. Because, if he did, it was confirmation. Confirmation that the worse case scenario had happened. Which meant Neville wasn't the only one susceptible to this curse, which meant they literally had a war on their hands- but, after all, how can you fight what's _inside of you_?

Harry stood and turned, staring into the young face of Tom Riddle. Young might be an overstatement. It was the same face he had seen in Dumbledore's office all those years ago, when Riddle had come under the illusion of seeking employment at the school. He knew now that had been a lie, knew the true intent, and Harry stared into the face of evil.

Neville rose rapidly, practically scampering up the wall.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm what's real, Neville. I'm you. I'm your other half. I am the darkness in you. Personally, I like the world I live in on the other half of _our _brain, and I'm not about to let this thing here," Riddle motioned at Harry, "Ruin all that."

"I'm going to send you right to Hell where you belong!" Harry barked, brandishing his wand.

"Funny. I have yet to make a single offense, and this thing here draws his wand on me. Really? Where are your manners, Potter?" Riddle shook his head in mock disappointment. Harry charged at him, before chains shot out literally right out of the ground, binding him in place. Harry struggled, but, in the end, he was powerless in this place

"This is my world. And you aren't ruining it anytime soon." Riddle spat.

* * *

><p>Hila spun around with the grace of a ballerina. For a dead girl, she really had legs. She was agile and quick, slicing and cutting, a force to be reckoned with. And, she kept shooting out liberal amounts of ice at them.<p>

That, Mark could handle.

What he could not handle was when the froze the floor, causing him to slip up.

Keydo, on the other hand, seemed familiar with the tactic, and chose to leap about from place to place, opting not to even try to walk on the frozen ice, all the while doing his best to defend the comatose bodies of his brother and the cursed wizard.

Mark swung and managed to make a good sized slash at her arm.

Hila howled in pain, swerving about as she tired to retaliate, even as the arm healed itself before Mark's very eyes.

The ground beneath them frozen, the undead had the advantage. One slip later had Mark on his ass as she loomed above him. He was seriously getting tired of this damn position.

Then, Keydo did the insane.

He leapt. Right onto her back.

Hila screeched like a banshee as she tried to get him off. She twisted, managed to grab him, and flung him from her, hard. Keydo hit the ground, rolled, and looked up, and grinned. Hila growled at him and advanced, the Mace-Magi forgotten... Resulting in a dagger plunging through the back of her skull, ripping straight through her forehead.

The zombie gasped before falling with an audible _thump... _

* * *

><p>"Neville, please... Help me... You have to fight him, <em>you have to...<em>" Harry whispered. Seemingly out of a cloud, another chain came down, wrapping its way firmly around Harry's neck, cutting his air way... And his ability to speak as he began to choke. He couldn't even lift up his arms to grasp at the thing as his arms too were bound in tight metallic links.

"He threatens all we have, Neville. He must be executed. Then, you can get back to your perfect world. Don't you want to see your parents again?" Riddle spoke.

Neville was glancing back and forth between the choking Harry and the smirking Riddle. His eyes were lit in fear, and he whimpered once more.

"Ne... Nev... Ill... Plea- ugh..." Harry chocked. He closed his eyes. His face was starting to become blue. The oxygen loss was becoming to great. He was dying. He was dying, and he wasn't even in the physical world to experience it. A dream, for all intents and purposes. So, this was how it ends. After all the hell he'd been through, this was how he was going to die, in a world that wasn't even real. He had known the risks. Should he die in the dream world, the mental trauma would have the same affect on the him in the real world, and his heart would stop beating.

And he had only seconds left...

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter..." Riddle smirked.

Neville balled his fists. His eyes still shown with fear, but, at that moment, he proved why he had been placed in Gryffindor. Bravery is not strutting around, on top of the world, not a care without any fear. Bravery is looking at your fear, looking it in the eye and feeling all that terror, and running straight at it anyways.

Neville chose the latter.

"STOP IT!" he thundered.

Riddle gasped and the image around them soon shattered into a thousand pieces, and Harry was falling through darkness once more. Suddenly, Harry could breath again. Of course, breath doesn't matter much when you happen to be falling through time and space, now, does it?

* * *

><p>Keydo knelt before Hila, his hand wavering over her.<p>

"I'll be damned..." he spoke up.

"What? Zombie chick finally dead?" Mark said hopefully.

"Zombie chick has a soul..." was the response.

"What?" Mark gasped.

"Voldemort is tampering with things that are not meant to be tampered with. That ring he holds is dangerous..." Keydo spoke as he stood.

"Speaking of the ring, the cloak?" Mark asked.

Keydo grinned and pulled it out. "Luckily, I though to bring an extra. Voldy will figure it out eventually, but, until then, let him enjoy his not so functioning ultimate cloak against Death." Keydo said.

Behind them, the bodies of Keyro and Neville groaned. The other pair turned to watch. Keyro's body seemed in pain, tremendous pain. Which meant something was wrong with Potter. Neville's body began to whimper in it's sleep. The element of fear.

"I take one, you take the other?" Mark suggested.

"Then who takes out little prisoner?" Keydo motioned to Hila. Mark stayed quiet for a few seconds, before looking at Keydo incredulously.

"You _cannot _be serious..."

"She's what makes the whole operation go. That black liquid inside Neville? It's _her _blood." Keydo pointed at Hila. Mark turned and stared back and forth.

"I chopped of her head. I'm pretty damn sure it was red."

"Compress it enough, you get black. She's not human, not fully. Her blood is a powerful hallucinogen. Mix it with the right magic mix, you have the perfect little bound soldier." Keydo explained.

"You can't be serious..."

"I'm dead serious. We can't leave her here."

"We can't take all three!"

Groan.

Both males turned as the bodies of the other two males groaned. Then, 'Keyro's' eyes shot open. There was a blank look in them, foggy, distant. And, of course, he screamed... Which pissed off Voldemort all the more as he continually failed to break down the magically enhanced door, that kept sucking up all the magic he tossed at it, absorbing it to make itself stronger.

There was a reason this fortress had once been called impenetrable, and the wards keeping Voldemort himself contained were utter proof of that.

* * *

><p>They were back in the living room. Harry panted as he rose, his hand ghosting over the angry red lines on his neck.<p>

He looked up at Neville, who looked just about as bad as Harry felt. Hair disheveled, eyes dilated, clothes torn, burns, a couple of cuts. His face looked bruised, like someone had decided to use it as a punching bag. Harry suddenly remembered when he had seen Neville like this before- right before the Battle of Hogwarts...

"Neville... You know none of this is real, right?" Harry spoke.

The other looked at him, and a tear fell.

"It... It has to be, Harry..." Neville whispered.

"We are real, Neville!"

Harry turned and watched as Alice and Frank advanced on them. Behind them stood the fake Hermione, the fake Ron, the fake Ginny and Luna.

"We are real..." they chanted.

"I know..." Neville nodded, and smiled at them all as they held him.

"Neville, please, listen to me!" Harry exclaimed.

"Leave him alone!" the others shouted.

Then, Luna, of all people, walked up to Harry and slapped him. "You're just jealous." she stated boastfully.

"Jealous? Of what?"

"You're not as amazingly hot as Neville is." Luna declared in a voice very much unlike herself before she walked up to Neville and gave him a searing open mouth kiss. Harry's jaw dropped. He knew Neville had fancied Luna years ago, but he had been under the impression that bridge had long ago been crossed, passed, and forgotten.

"Nev, please, listen to me... I'm sorry, but it's not real..." Harry pleaded that his friend see reason.

"Why can't it be real, Harry? I'm happy. _I'm happy. _I'm happier than I've ever been in a long time! There's no suffering here, Harry! Everyone is happy, everyone is content. No Death Eaters, no dark wizards, no insane plots to end the world! The Muggles and Wizards of this world live in harmony, Harry. Isn't that what we always dreamed of, isn't that what we've always wanted?" Neville said passionately, his eyes glowing with unshed tears.

"That's exactly why it isn't real, Neville! It's perfect. _Too _perfect! It's a lie, and you know it!" Harry countered.

"So what if it is?" Hermione said.

"It's perfect here, Neville." Ron continued.

"Everything you ever dreamed of." Ginny stated.

"Stay with us, honey, please..." Alice pestered.

"We love you son." Frank spoke.

"Neville, please... Listen to me... We need to get back to the real world... Please, listen to me... Listen to me now, please!" Harry called out. Neville closed his eyes, tears falling down behind the closed eyelids.

"Get away from me..." he pushed away all those sorrounding him.

"Neville-"

"If this is really just a dream, an illusion, then there's only one way to break it... I hope you're right Harry, I pray to God you're right..." Neville said.

"Nev-"

"Neville, no!"

But too late. Neville had conjured a knife in his hands, and, before they could stop him, he had plunged the instrument into his own chest, tears still falling freely, and everything went dark...

* * *

><p>Two pairs of eyes shot open at once.<p>

Harry rose up, gasping for breath as if the luxury of air had been denied to him for the past half an hour.

"Finally, up, the two of you!" a voice snapped.

Neville, grodgy, rose.

Then, he spotted Keydo. And who he, for obvious reasons, assumed to be Keyro. "You two!" he snarled as he dug in his robes for a wand that was no longer there. Then, he nearly collapsed as exhaustion hit him.

"Wow there, I got you." Mark caught him.

Neville turned.

"Who are you?"

"The guy who just saved your ass. Now shut up, stop asking questions, and let's work on getting out of here..."

Keydo helped his 'twin' up. Except, the man inside the body was definitely not his twin. "Can you walk?" Keydo questioned.

"Yeah." the other nodded, holding himself upright. Keydo nodded and turned, walking towards the fallen Hila. He picked her up, before tossing the body over his arm carelessly. When he received looks for this, he shrugged and stated she was already dead anyways. Never mind the fact that said dead person had tried to kill them.

There was a loud blast.

Harry in Keyro's body turned to watch as Voldemort finally broke down the wards keeping him contained, and he did not look pleased.

"Go, go, go!" Keydo led.

The small group sped down the bridge, trying to get to the other side. Once freed of the wards on the fortress, they'd be able to escape. But, for now...

"There!" a shout.

Beneath, Voldemort growled and lifted his wand.

"They have the cloak." Shena reminded him.

Voldemort growled, but lowered it anyways.

"Your new pet. Is it awake?" Voldemort demanded.

She nodded.

"Then you better hope he is as deadly as they say..." Voldemort's voice held a not so thinly veiled menace.

Shena nodded, and turned as Ken passed by them. She motioned to the bridge. "Take them down. All of them. Go!" she commanded.

The man nodded emotionlessly, before sprinting off. Like Keydo before him, he began to run up the walls, leap, jump. Dead people really seemed to have a knack for being agile, it seemed...

Ken landed easily on his feet on top of the bridge. The rest turned and watched as the dead one turned towards them, and growled with ferocity.

Keydo's eyes widened comically.

"Come on!" he shouted, rushing them.

Neville and Harry, and even Mark to an extent, were all out of it, however. Keydo himself only had energy to go because he had drained Shena herself, and Shena had a very keen skill of regeneration, which made her stamina increase ten-fold that of a regular human.

Ken lifted his hand.

"Mark!" Keydo shouted.

The Mace-Magi turned as a bolt of pure blue lightning shot towards them. Mark managed to lift his hand a fraction before hand, but the blast was still powerful enough to knock him off his feet. Part of the bridge blew off, but, luckily, it was not the part they happened to be standing on. Ken continued to advance, eyes glowing blue. Keydo took one of Mark's knives- as Mace-Magi, for some odd reason, seemed to enjoy carrying them everywhere- and tossed it.

The freshly created zombie was not fast enough to avoid it, did not have instinct enough to avoid it, and the knife dug into the skull, hitting the brain.

Bingo.

It fell dramatically to the ground, before rolling off the bridge into the very hole it had created when it tried to blast them.

The group continued to run as fast as they could.

At last, they reached the end of the bridge, and the end of the wards. Keydo lifted his hand, concentrating, making a portal... Just as Voldemort managed to reach them.

"Agh!" the Dark Lord cried.

"In!" Keydo commanded.

A curse flew their way, but the Mace-Magi deflected it and smirked at the baffled expression on Voldemort's face.

"Mark, come on!" Keydo called as he managed to get the rest through.

"Okay." was the short reply. Mark turned, flipped Voldemort off, then turned and lept through. Keydo rolled his eyes, waved goodbye, and followed.

The howl of fury Voldemort gave after them was loud enough and piercing enough to wake the dead...


	12. Demons War Excerpt

****A/N; scenes from my Demon's War fic(SPN/HP Crossover). I wrote these up a while ago, but am still a bit away from this point in the story. So, this counts as spoilers! I felt like putting it up, as I was bored, so. Yeah. The entire thing is devoid of editing. For example, Lilith's personality. I wrote this up, but, I did not give said demon her child-like attitude she wields every time she tortures people.

Enjoy.

Adios.

* * *

><p><strong>Demon's War Excerpt <strong>

Ron's eyes snapped open. He gave a weak groan, looking left and right. The darkness around him practically enveloped him in its embrace. The air was thick, like syrup. That couldn't be natural, right?

And his arms and chest hurt like hell, why did they hurt like hell?

And why were there cold metallic chains wrapped around his wrists, holding him dangling above the ground?

As his vision finally cleared, he spotted Neville, to his right. He managed to crane his neck to the left and saw Luna, bound to a bed- except, most beds aren't made of metal and have restraints to keep one in place.

It hit him hard, what this was, were they where, what they had gotten themselves into.

A torture chamber, damn it!

He cursed, praying against all hope Harry would find them. For the first time, he wasn't pissed Harry had chosen to go with the Winchesters to rescue that girl, what was her name, Jessica? He went with them, saying he needed to, just needed to and that he couldn't explain, while Ron, Neville, and Tamara came to try and save Hermione from the trap she was walking into.

They'd been expecting demons, when they came this way.

They never expected some odd looking blond who claimed to be a witch who packed some serious wandless magic but had absolutely no idea how to actually function an actual wand and ended up making the damn thing light on fire when she tried.

Then, he heard the door open, and he looked up. Relief and worry flooded him at the same time.

"Hermione, get me down!" Ron exclaimed. His four-month pregnant wife advanced towards him. She looked dirty, but, otherwise, unharmed. She walked towards Ron as he stared at her, waiting for her to release him. "Hermione, come on!" She looked scared, but still, she didn't say anything. Her hand trailed up his arm, to the restraint, then-

She smacked him, hard.

Ron gave a pitiful groan as he head snapped to the side. He was sure he heard a crack. His head was reeling, every inch hurt, every inch burned with endless flames, as if lava was being poured all around it. There was something hot running down his face, and only then did he realize Hermione's blow had made him bleed.

He gasped and turned back to face Hermione, who was smiling at him.

"What the hell?"

Another slap, this time, on the other cheek. Then, she forced him to look at her with her hand under his chin. Now, Ron was openly glaring. He wasn't a total dunderhead, and had caught on. True, he should have figured it out at the first slap, but it was kind of hard to think with his head on fire like that.

"Get out of her, you demonic bitch!" he bellowed.

"Someone needs to learn a little manners, I think..." the demon coed, before placing her hand on Ron's chest.

He'd faced the power of the Cruciatus curse before, but it was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to this. And Ron couldn't stop the scream that ripped through his chest even if he tried. There was simply no describing the pain that filled him, because there are no words in the world to describe this pain.

Within seconds, he was on the brink of insanity, when, at last, she let him go.

He instantly felt himself crumble. Every inch hurt. It hurt to even breath. His heard was pounding painfully hard, and it felt like that too had been subjected to the torture.

"Your little wife?" the demon spoke as she lifted his head to meet his eyes. Ron cried out as she touched him, because the pain was still there and it wouldn't leave, wouldn't go away. It was too much, dammit! He couldn't even think at this point. If you'd ask him his name, Ron would have stared blankly at you and said he didn't know it, because that's how bad it was right now.

"She's in here with me. Hearing the way you scream. She's fighting me. Strong, too, I'll give her that." the demon chuckled evilly. "Hell, even Alistair would have a hard time controlling this meatsuit." Ron didn't know who Alistair was, and he damn well didn't care. As sentient thought returned to him, he openly glared at the demon. It wasn't Hermione in there, and he didn't want to think what Hermione was suffering right now. "But, being the oldest demon in creation? It has it's perks." and then, the eyes turned over in her skull until there was only white, and she smiled.

Ron flinched at the sight. Something in his gut told him this one, whatever it was, was far worse than the black-eyed demons they'd faced so far. Then, there was the power, just coming of her in radioactive waves. Something clicked, and Ron realized he was staring into the face of evil, true evil. Evil to vile that it made Voldemort look... Well, not like an innocent child, but more like the local school bully compared to a serial rapist/killer.

What the hell did he get himself into, damn it?

* * *

><p>It had been hours. It felt more like days, felt more like weeks, like months. But it had only been three long, hard, difficult and brutal hours.<p>

When Sam finally exited the room, he looked tired. His hair was a mess, and there were heavy shadows under his eyes. He looked hollow. Hollow and extremely pissed off at the exact same time. How he managed it, Harry didn't know, but the hunter managed it well. His shirt was soaked in salty tears so deep that the fabric was probably ruined and Sam would most likely have to throw the shirt away. but, at the moment, he didn't look like he gave a damn about that particular detail.

Ignoring the rest of them, Sam strode over to Bobby's fridge, swung it open, and pulled out a beer. He chugged it down in record time, before going for another and doing the same, then another, and ano-

"Alright Sam, that's enough." Dean tried to pull his brother away from the alcohol, which only served to anger the young man even more as he snarled. He tried to bat Dean's hands away, but Dean wouldn't let him. He swung his brother around, hard, holding firmly onto his shoulders to keep Sam in place.

"She needs you. Burying yourself in booze isn't going to do anyone good, now stop!" Dean snapped.

Sam glared viciously for several seconds. Then, looking away, he gave a mute nod before walking past his brother, sitting down in the armchair, and leaning back, closing his eyes. He'd give anything, anything, to not to have to go through this. But, Dean's right. Sam has to stay strong. He has to stay strong for her, for Jessica.

Two years.

Two years of endless torture.

Two years, and she still refused to break, to do what the wanted her to do.

She'd resisted them for so long, but the state it had left her in... The demons had left her body a shattered mess. Wounded beyond belief. Her mind was in tatters from all the times Brady literally raped her mind. It took them two years to find her, because they thought she was dead, that she was gone.

But she wasn't.

She'd been alive the entire time, and Sam hadn't realized. He hadn't realized, and look what happened. Silent tears were rolling down his cheeks. He hated this. He hated it, and he silently wondered why God seemed to hate him so damn much. His whole life was one great tragedy. Correction, Sam and Dean's lives were one great tragedy. They'd gone through a lot over the years, but this burned worse than the rest.

Holding the woman he loved more than his own life while she just layed there in his arms so utterly broken that there were no words to define it. She'd always been so strong, so beautiful, sweet kind. And look at what they did to her. Look how they left her. Left picking up the thousand broken shards of her life of the ground.

"How's she holding up?" Harry winces even as he says it, but he's dealt with this kind of thing before. True, never to the extent that Jessica has suffered- they're usually dead at that point- but he has dealt with it and wonders if there is a minuscule chance he can help.

Sam's eyes shoot open and he openly glares murderously at Harry before he regains his calm. Dean looks like he wants to smack Harry, but doesn't move or do a thing.

"She's... I don't know what to say... She still recognizes me, at least, but..." Sam's voice broke off at that point, as his face twisted in pain as he found he couldn't force another whisper out of his mouth.

Harry nods weakly, and, wisely, decides not to comment.

Their little rescue almost didn't work. It didn't help that that blond demon, Ruby, the one supposedly on their side, nearly killed Jessica herself when the young girl begged desperately for the release. Harry was weary of that one. But, then again, if it hadn't been for Ruby, they'd all be dead at the current moment.

Suddenly, Dean's phone began to blare out rock music. Harry stared, finding the sound extremely odd.

"What? Never heard of AC/DC?" Dean said indignantly, with the air of a small child.

"AC what?"

"Never mind." the hunter rolled his eyes before flipping the phone open and answering.

"Hello?" he answered. There was silence for a few seconds before Dean turned to look at Harry. "It's your friend, that Hermione chick."

"Hermione?" Harry sighed in relief. So, they'd gotten out okay, escaped the trap Meg set up after killing the Head of the American Bureau of Mysteries before impersonating said Ministry head to lead Hermione into a trap. Dean tossed Harry the phone, and he caught it, pressing it to his ear eagerly. "Hello? Hermione? Are you alright, I was worried-" Harry began to ramble.

"I'm perfect, Harry, but I want you to hear something." Hermione cut across.

"What?" Harry frowned, not liking her tone.

Suddenly, the phone exploded with a cacophony of screams that Harry, in surprise, dropped it. The two hunters jumped, already in battle mode, as the screams continued.

The screams of three...

Just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Harry's face flushed in fury as he picked the phone back up. He could hear the soft pitiful moans of Ron, Neville, and Luna at the other end.

"If you ever want to see your little friends again, you will bring me the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Now. Or, I will peel the flesh of their bones." 'Hermione', except Harry now knew without a doubt that it definitely wasn't Hermione on the other end, gave her ultimatum.

Harry closed his eyes for a second.

He didn't want to give in to the enemy, but, if he did-

"Need more convincing?" the demon asked in a mock-concerned voice.

"NO!" Harry shouted into the receiver, and sighed in relief when he didn't hear anymore screams.

"Good boy. Now, you're going to do exactly. As I say. Understood?"

Harry gritted his teeth. Obedience had never come easy to him.

"Yes, understood..."

"Good dog. Now, I'm sure the Winchesters are there with you, are they not?"

"They are."

"Stun them. Now."

Harry nodded, before pulling out his wand.

"Harry..."

Harry felt terrible about this. Dean was just starting to trust him, and this was seriously going to send them back a few steps. Oh well.

"STUPEFY!" Harry shouted out twice.

Dean shot back and slammed against the wall with brutal force, but Sam? The stunner hit him, and- nothing. The red magic dissipated from his form, as Sam stared down at his chest in shock, before looking up at Harry.

Uh oh...

"Let me guess, Sammy's immune? Enjoy." the demon laughed before hanging up on Harry, just as the younger Winchester snarled and began to advance.

Harry doubted the other would kill him, or even try, but, he was pretty sure he was about to get his ass kicked. How Sam had been immune, he had no idea, and, as two hands wrapped around his neck, Harry's shock prevented him from even trying to defend himself as the young hunter left him on the ground and passed out in record speed by quickly hitting Harry with the handle of the knife he always carried on his person, and Harry knew no more as darkness enveloped him.

* * *

><p>When Harry finally came to, it was to realize he was tied to a chair. His eyes snapped open in one swift fluid motion, awareness flooding his consciousness. That, and pain cradling his skull.<p>

Damn it.

He groaned a bit. His head hurt like hell from the blow Sam had placed there, and his neck felt bruised from the few seconds the hunter had had his hands around the others throat.

He looked around, but he was alone. The room was empty, except for him. He looked around, before trying to break the bonds. He concentrated on his magic, hoping that might work, when- nothing. Now, he was starting to get scared.

His magic was failing him.

True, wandless magic was one of the most difficult branches to master, but at least when he tried he could feel his own magic rolling around inside of him.

Right now, it wasn't working. He felt powerless, weak, and broken. And, he had no idea what was going on, had no idea why this was happening.

Okay, scratch that, he knew why this was happening.

He'd turned on the Winchesters.

Though how they'd managed to strip him of his powers, he had no idea. Just like he had no idea how Sam could have possibly been immune to the stunner he hit the hunter with.

He struggled again against the bonds, but, try as he might, he just couldn't get away. He was tied far too tightly. So tightly the rope was cutting into his skin.

"I see you're awake, you traitorous little son of a bitch."

Harry stopped fighting the bonds and looked up at Dean, who was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a feral look in his eyes.

"Dean, I can explain-" Harry tried. He had no doubt this one would kill him. Sam was more reasonable, more peaceful. Dean? Dean hated Harry for even daring to exist in the first place. After all, Dean was raised to hunt down and kill 'things' like Harry. True, Harry had finally managed to convince Dean that the term magic did not equate to evil- as he had been raised to believe since the typical witch on this side of the world actually did get their powers from demons- and now, he'd gone and blown it all to tatters by attacking them.

"Save it for someone who believes a damn word out of your mouth!" Dean snarled, eyes shone with betrayal. He couldn't believe he'd even let himself trust the damn warlock for even a second. Dean wanted nothing more than to strike the man down. Get a knife, and cut him through. But, Sam would go mental on him if he did that, so...

"Look, I didn't want to-" Harry tried again.

"You turned on us and used your little magic waving stick to attack us, so forgive me if I don't believe you." Dean snapped coldly.

"Just listen to me-" Harry began once more. Suddenly, both their voices were drowned out in the light of two new ones.

"Jess, NO."

"I can do this, Sam."

"No, you need to lay down and rest-"

"Sam, I'm 24, I think I can handle myself."

"Half an hour ago, you didn't even know your own name!"

"Well, I sure as hell know it now! Please... I have to."

"Why?"

Silence.

Then, a small sob. Whispered words neither could catch.

The doors swung open and the hollow and starved form of Jessica Moore began to advance on Harry. He winced, taking in her appearance. She looked like a mirror image of a Holocaust victim. Withered and bony, pale, starved. Her hair, which had once been a brilliant shimmering gold, was a faded dull shade of gray. But, her eyes. Broken as they were, they burned with determination.

The next thing Harry knew, his mind was being assaulted as she touched his forehead.

None of his training could have prepared for this, because she wasn't using Legilimence to penetrate his mind. How she did it, he had no idea, but it was different. It didn't hurt, either. All his walls, she bypassed like nothing, before, at last, she let him go.

She fell into Sam's arms, looking more tired than before, which Harry hadn't thought possible.

"A demon has his friends. She ordered him to attack the two of you, or hear them tortured to insanity." Jessica muttered, before closing her eyes. Sam picked her up, and looked at Dean, motioning to Harry.

Dean groaned a little, before turning to Harry.

"No funny business, alright Merlin?" he snapped.

Harry nodded mutely as the hunter cut the bonds.

"Um. Dean?" Harry asked. He was glared at. "What did you two do to my... My powers?"

Dean rolled his eyes, and pulled out a Hex bag from underneath the chair Harry had been sitting on. Harry recoiled back. Somehow, the strange bag was messing with his powers, and he didn't like it.

"Any sign of trouble, and I swear to God, you'll be sorry. Now, come on" Dean turned and moved towards the door.

"Come on where?" Harry asked, not knowing what to expect.

"To rescue your friends." was the cold response.

Harry was surprised the brothers were going to help him, but, he knew better than to question his luck and just followed.


End file.
